


One More Night

by whendoestheshipsail



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1940's Bucky, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Desperation Play, Endgame Fix-It, Kinky, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Steve likes to get in fights, Top Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, bucky figures it out, endgame compliant and stucky approved, explicit from chapter 1 yo, it's actually because he loves to be pushed around, like way too much sex, so take that russo's because its always stucky, you've gotta survive the war somehow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-02-28 16:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/whendoestheshipsail
Summary: The relationship between Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers has always been co-dependent, but it didn't go off the rails and straight into depravity until Bucky was about to be shipped out to war. When Steve decides to push Bucky's buttons the night before he leaves, Steve gets more than he ever expected.As the war goes on, their ability to find comfort in each other leads them both into a lust so primal and carnal Bucky worries it will destroy them both.After the Snap, Steve thought they'd find their way back to each other. Apparently not. Determined to find normalcy, Steve goes back to the past and very quickly realizes that he was never cut out for the apple pie, fall in line and just retire sort of life.  Steve needs violence and some pain with his love...and somewhere in the 40's is a Winter Soldier who can give it to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is gonna be super kinky with lots of D/s dynamics and M/s dynamics that are not negotiated or well understood because it's the 40's and reasons. But IMO, Steve got into all those fights for a reason and Bucky (god love him) has always done whatever he can to make Steve happy. 
> 
>  
> 
> Un beta'd and I seriously survive on comments. it's like my caloric intake for writing if that makes sense.

Steve had been staring at him for the last ten minutes. At first, he’d tried to be inconspicuous. If Bucky looked up from his drink, Steve would look away, make sure he was looking elsewhere. And then he’d started to catch him, gaze on Bucky’s hands, on his mouth as he drank his beer, on his shoulders, then on his perfectly pressed new uniform like he couldn’t help himself.

And now, the last sixty seconds or so had somehow become even more conspicuous. Steve had started to turn red, a flush crawling up his neck, settling into two high spots of color on his cheeks. His lips were pressed into a hard, angry line and his hand was fisted on the table. Bucky knew the other one probably was too, it was just that it was out of sight under the table. Steve was close to snapping.

“Hey. It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said.

Steve blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You look like you’re about to flip this table and cause a scene.”

“You’re leaving me. I mean, you’re going to war. And I can’t go with you,” Steve said, like Bucky was an idiot.

“No, you can’t. But you can make sure I leave here with some fond memories of our last hours together.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Steve asked, and it was so unlike him, Mr. I-can-do-anything-watch-me-kill-myself-to-prove-it, that Bucky just blinked at him.

“Steve, nothing is changing. You go to work, you try to do your damned laundry before you run out of everything, feed that cat I like and you write me letters. All the time. Send sketches too.”

“And you’ll be out there getting shot at?” he says, voice shaking with rage. “Nothing is changing. What sort of bullshit is that? You’re leaving me.”

“Steve, keep your voice down,” he growled, worried people would get the wrong idea.

“I’m gonna ask you once. Did you sign up or were you drafted?”

“What does it matter?” Bucky asked.

His smile was bitter. “Fuck you, Bucky,” he said, and he got up, stalking out of the pub. At the door, he ran into a drunk Irishman who swore at Steve and pushed him. Bucky shoved to his feet, positive it was going to end in a fight but it didn’t. Steve disappeared out the door and Bucky drained his drink and moved after him.

He wasn’t even sure why. Steve was being a punk. He was the one who was having to go to war! He was the one who might _die_. And instead of getting to be afraid or supported he was having to soothe Steve’s ego. The cold air whipped against his exposed face and neck and he adjusted his wool scarf and peered out into the dark. Damn, where the hell had he gone?

“Steve!” he shouted and got no answer. There weren’t that many options. It was late and Steve was still getting over a cold. He didn’t have a ton of energy. Most likely, he went home. Bucky turned in that direction but didn’t move.

On the other hand, Steve was a bit of a weird one. He didn’t like girls. Didn’t pursue them or try to let off steam like a normal fella. When things got stressful Steve wanted a fight.

And it was never someone his own size. They were always bigger, beefier and Steve always lost. Badly. Fear roiled through him and he turned the other direction, towards the docks where one could always find trouble without a lot of effort. He’d seen Steve itching for it tonight. He needed a fight like Bucky sometimes needed a fuck. And God only knew what that said about the both of them that he knew that.

Most times Bucky got there in time to stop it before it got too bad. He wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. He’d be halfway around the god damned world trying to kill people.

Steve was everything. The person he loved more than any other. And he’d do anything he could to make sure Steve was okay. Whether or not Steve would let him was another question.

A nasty laugh and an oof of pain made Bucky stop, peer intently into a dark alley. “Just a fight? Little fella like you never just wants a fight. You want me to pound your throat or your ass, boy?” He saw Steve then, made out his pale face in the moonlight. He was on his knees, a large brute of a man held Steve by the hair, forcing him still. Blood marred half his face and Steve was wheezing, close to a panic attack.

The man kept one hand in Steve’s hair and fumbled with his pants. “You gonna behave if I let you suck my prick?” he demanded.

“Yeah, I’ll behave. Promise,” he said, and Bucky charged into the alley, shoving the man forward as hard as he could so he stumbled into the wall, hitting his head. He righted himself slowly, shook his head and Bucky didn’t even wait, just punched him in the face and watched him hit the ground, making sure he was out.

Steve was still on his knees, staring at Bucky mutinously. He hauled Steve to his feet, hands wrapped in his shirt. “What the fuck? How am I supposed to leave you if this is what you’re going to get up to? Do you have any idea what he was going to do to you?” He demanded, shaking him roughly.

“Get your hands off me!” Steve shouted and kicked him, honest to God kicked him in the shins. Rage and fear roared through him and he lifted Steve off his feet, turned him around, shoved him into the wall, pinning him there. A kick in the shins? Like that would stop someone who was determined to hurt Steve.

“You can’t do this anymore. I won’t be here to save you,” he hissed. “Do you honestly not know what he was going to do to you?”

“What?” Steve asked, “What’s going to happen to me without Bucky barnes here to protect me?,” Steve said, venomously. “I’m not stupid and I’m not helpless. I would have bitten his cock off if he’d put it near my face.”

“And this? Cause he gave you a choice, Steve. Ass or mouth. Sure you could bite him but you couldn’t fight him this way.” Bucky ground his cock against Steve’s right cheek to make his point.

Steve struggled and Bucky held him tighter, ground into him harder. Jesus, he was warm. He was like a fucking furnace against Bucky’s chest. And even though he was bony, he had some meat on his backside. Steve’s ass was clenching on him, Bucky’s cock somehow between Steve’s cheeks as he struggled to break Bucky’s hold.

He should pull away because Steve had to understand now. But the way he fought, like a kitten against a pit bull, all weak rage, and naive bravado scared the hell out of Bucky, made something dark and awful rise up within him.

“How do I go away and leave you here when you have no fucking idea the danger you’re in?”

“I’m not in any danger. I’d break free,” Steve gasped.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled.

Steve threw his head back, cracking Bucky on the chin. “You little shit,” he swore, pain radiating along his face. He pulled Steve back, chest off the wall then slammed him forward again, heard the stunned breath exhale from him and shifted his grip, pinning his two hands back behind his back while Steve struggled uselessly, ass grinding back against Bucky’s cock. And this whole situation was so charged and fucked up that he felt himself getting hard, shoved his hips forward, rubbing his cock even more firmly between Steve’s cheeks, the material of their trousers unbearably thick.

“He’d pin you here. Like this, and he’d have a hand free. You can’t escape. Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand?” he demanded, heart pounding.

“You’re wrong. I don’t need you, Buck. Once you’re gone I’ll do whatever I want and lucky for you, you won’t have to see it.”

He could already imagine it, the fights he’d get into, the terrible things that might happen because of Steve’s temper. His ability to start a fight and his complete inability to fucking finish one. “You’ll get hurt. Please, Stevie. You can’t be this stupid,” he said, hand tightening on Steve’s frail wrists.

Steve breathed in sharply but didn’t give any other indication that it hurt. “You’re going to play it like that, huh? Like you can pretend I’m wrong and you’re okay because you’re so tough? Damn you, Stevie,” he said, and that feeling, unknown and dark overcame him, washing away his humanity, the fundamental love and kindness he felt for Steve subsumed with the determination to _make_ him understand.

His free hand slipped around Steve’s body, to his belt, got it open with a yank. He fumbled the button and the zipper then pulled hard at Steve’s pants, yanking them down, exposing his body while Steve tried to thrash away from him. “Do you get it now? How easy it would be for someone to make you do this?”

“Bullshit. As soon as he went for his zipper I’d get free,” Steve said, body trembling, voice high. Bucky tried to clear his mind, actually shook his head as he stood there, Steve’s chest pressed against the wall, his pants pulled down his thighs, ass back, close enough to graze against Bucky’s hard cock. Steve’s hands jerked and he got a hand free. He tried to elbow Bucky, making a sound of triumph when Bucky wheezed in his ear.

“Damn it!” He used both hands then, utterly ruthless, jerking Steve’s arms back, gripping his wrists tight, and then fumbled with his own pants, got the zipper down, shoved them down his thighs. His boxers were still on, thank Christ, adding some weird semblance of propriety to it all but Steve was struggling, shifting, and the friction against Bucky’s cock was driving him mad.

He let go of Steve’s wrists then, adjusted, wrapped his arms around him like a vise, hard and tight. Steve’s hands came up to Bucky’s arms, fingers digging into his forearms ineffectually. Steve shifted, legs widening a little and Bucky’s cock was suddenly there, so close to being inside him that it made him gasp.

“I could scream,” Steve might have said.

“Do it then. See who comes to save you. No one. No one and you damn well knows it. You’re mine.”

Steve moved his head awkwardly like he was going to head butt him and Bucky opened his mouth against Steve’s neck, bit down hard on the tendon, so hard that Steve cried out, head back on Bucky’s shoulder, hips thrusting as he came hard. Steve’s ass clenched, fucking milked his cock and Bucky had no choice but to fuck against him, rutting deep and hard between his cheeks. His cock slipped out the hole of his boxers and Steve’s skin, fuck his skin was so soft and perfect that he was coming almost instantly, spurting all up the crack of Steve’s ass and onto his lower back. 

He released Steve’s neck, dropped his arms, stumbled back from him as he shakily pulled up his pants, managed the zipper and nothing else. Steve was heaving, face against the wall, arms folded in front of him, forehead resting on his arms. Bucky’s come glinted in the light, dripped down Steve’s ass cheek and was slid down his thigh. Had he hurt him?

“Stevie, Stevie, I’m so sorry,” he said, tears filling his eyes. He’d never meant for that to happen. Couldn’t really believe it had. Steve didn’t move and so Bucky went to him, knelt down and grabbed his pants, pulling them up his skinny legs and to his hips. He felt Steve flinch and he couldn’t stand it, he turned and fled, leaving Steve in the alley, grateful he’d be shipping out in the morning.

***

He walked the city for a few hours and then went home. Steve wasn’t there. His favorite sketchbook was gone. He’d come and left. Where was he? Bucky waited, even as he knew full well Steve wasn’t going to come back until Bucky was gone. He ran to the toilet and threw up, feeling more sick and wrong than he’d ever felt in his entire life.

He started a note and then threw it away. But the time kept ticking and he was going to have to leave soon. He had to say something. He started another letter.

 

_Steve,_

_I’m sure you don’t want to see me after what happened and I don’t blame you. It’s no comfort for me to tell you that I don’t understand how it happened. I was so scared for you. So afraid. I kept thinking that if I could make you understand that you’d be safe. I don’t know how I got so mixed up. I’m sure you can never forgive me. I won’t ever forgive myself._

_You were the best friend I ever had. Closer than a brother. I’ll think about you every day.And every time I need to confess my sins before going towards death, you have to believe you’re the top of the list. The only thing on the list._

_I’m sorry._

_James Buchanan Barnes_

 

***

 

It was the signature at the bottom of the letter that scared Steve the most. It was so formal. Somehow so damning and distant. He couldn’t bear to think that Bucky had gone to war thinking this was his fault. That he hadn’t figured out that Steve had goaded him into it, gotten exactly what he’d always wanted.

Bucky so furious and possessive, Bucky who mastered him so easily and growled into his ear. Bucky who’d yanked his pants down and used Steve to get off, coating his ass and his hole with come. The whole thing so beautiful and wrong that he’d come without even touching himself.

And afterward, he’d felt…hell, he didn’t know how he’d felt. Tired. Like he’d floated away from himself. All he’d wanted to do was drop down to his knees, bury his face against Bucky’s crotch and clean every trace of come off of him. Show him how grateful he was.

He’d had just enough self-preservation to not do that. To keep his gaze averted so he didn’t make that mistake. And then Bucky had left and Steve had gone back home to an empty house. He hadn’t come home. Clearly, he’d been disgusted with Steve. So Steve had taken his sketchbook and some money and gone to a diner for the night, giving Bucky the gift of space after what Steve had coerced him into.

And now there was this letter. This fucking letter that was trying to take all responsibility for what had happened. Bucky who’d be going to war, into danger and thinking he’d done wrong by Steve. Bucky was going to get himself killed if he wasn’t careful. And it was going to be all his fault. And at that moment he knew, no matter what the cost, he had to get over there, had to find Bucky and make things right.

 

***

 

“Let’s hear it for Captain America!” Bucky shouted, and everyone whooped and clapped. Suddenly Steve was surrounded by soldiers and excitement, and he almost didn’t notice Bucky slinking away from the impromptu celebration. Almost.

He followed him away from camp, saw Bucky sit down on a fallen log, more like collapse onto the log and he put his head in his hands. There was definitely a part of him, cowardly and scared that wanted to back away, let Bucky be alone and delay the conversation they’d been needing to have ever since that night in the alley. But he hadn’t come all this way to be a god damned coward now.

“You okay, Buck?” he asked, voice soft as he went towards him. Bucky wiped at his eyes, dashing away his tears.

“Thank you for saving my life, Steve,” he said, distant and formal. “I’d like to be alone now if it’s all the same to you.”

It wasn’t all the same to him. A bird was singing in the trees above them. What right did it have to sing a fucking song like everything was okay? Didn’t it know the world was ending? “And then what? Will you go home? I’m sure they’ll let you.”

“Europe is a big place. I feel quite confident that I can do my job without us having to see each other again,” he said, on a hollow laugh.

“I wrote you letters. Wanted to answer your letter that you left me. Because it wasn’t your fault and I didn’t blame you. If anything, uh, I asked for it.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said after a quiet moment. He stood up to his full height. All the cracks in Bucky’s armor, the vulnerability was gone. The Bucky before him was someone he’d never seen before. A man who’d seen horrors and experienced terrors and would never again laugh with carefree abandon. He was haunted. Dark shadows under his eyes, the way his hand rested, clearly aware of where his gun was, even here when they were together and as safe as they could be in a war zone.

“Please don’t go away like this. I want to put this behind us.”

“I can’t do that,” Bucky said, and he blinked rapidly. “I hurt you. Besides, you don’t need me anymore. Everyone is falling all over themselves to be close to you, to be your friend. You’re out of that life we had. The poverty and sickness. You don’t ever have to look back. You’re free, Steve. Go and be who you want.” Who the hell was he withoutBucky?

“That’s not what I want. I’m not ashamed of my past and I’m definitely not ashamed of you.”

Bucky shrugged, unconvinced. He started to walk away. Steve couldn’t let him leave, not like this. 

“Dammit, Buck. In that alley…in that alley, I _knew_ what I was doing. I knew you’d come after me. I knew you’d save me like you always do. And you did. And part of me hated you for that. For always knowing and getting it right, doing the good thing. So honorable while I was a mess inside. I wanted what we did. You know it, deep down you do. Everything I said, every struggle was…calculated.”

Bucky didn’t look relieved. And his cheeks turned pink. A muscle ticked in his jaw and Steve can’t help but wonder if Bucky’s about to deck him. “You wanted a fight. We both know that. That ain’t what we’re talking about here,”he said, voice low.

Steve nodded. He knew that. But the words were stuck in his throat and it was the same reason he didn’t send the letters in the end. Because there was only one answer here, only one confession to be made and having to confess his weaknesses, his perversions to his best friend, meant he’d lose him forever.

He’d rather die. Steve had to swallow and clear his throat before he could speak like his body was physically protesting what he was about to say. “I know what we’re talking about. What we did. That’s never happened to me before. Or since, but maybe that’s more obvious, because no one can take me now….” Steve drags in a deep breath, lets it out. “I came Buck. So hard, without…without even touching myself. Because it was you against me, and I couldn’t move and then you bit me and you were so _hard_ behind me and I was just _gone_.”

Bucky doesn’t look disgusted. He looks confused. “No,” he manages, “I know what happened. I was there. You couldn’t even look at me,” he attempts a smile, runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re wrong. I didn’t turn around because I was…I don’t know what happened to me. It was like an out of body experience or something. I was just…floating or something. Not because it was bad but because it was good. Perfect. And I’m sorry I know that’s wrong. What I did ruined us. But that’s on me, Bucky. And I’m sorry for it because I love you more than anything and I think I always will,” he said, and a sob came out of him like a punch, forcing his body forward. “Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he cried, and Bucky was pulling him into his arms, letting Steve be near him after everything he’d done and it was too much, just too overwhelming. His legs gave out and it dragged them both to their knees.

“You’re alright, buddy. It’s okay. You know I’ll always forgive you, always. It’s you and me, Steve. Always. To the end of the line. And apparently beyond that since we both should have died back there,” he said, trying to make a joke. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Steve held on, adjusted his grip tighter, tighter, unsure if he would ever let him go. Bucky’s clothes were falling off of him, he needed a shower or six and there was nowhere else Steve would rather be than pressed up against him, the heat of him, the vitality. Bucky was his sun and he’d orbit him like some stupid planet til the day he died given half a chance. He wasn’t sure how long he cried for, how long Bucky let him hold onto him and rubbed his back, comforting him but Steve felt utterly wrung out, the adrenaline having left him.

They’d survived. “I can’t believe I found you. I was so scared. I kept thinking you’d die and that I’d never have told you. I’m sorry,” he said, and he felt himself about to start crying again.

Bucky hugged him tightly. “Let’s put it behind us then. I can do that if you can. We’ll be okay. We can be okay, buddy.” Bucky’s stomach growled and it broke the tension. They pulled apart and Bucky got to his feet, offering a hand down to Steve. He wasn’t sure he could stand. His hand shook as he held it out. Bucky pulled him to his feet with and patted his cheek like everything was fine.

“You’re a hell of a lot heavier than you were. You’ll be carrying yourself to bed from now on. Or carrying me,” he said, but then he frowned. There was no way saying that sounded innocent anymore.

“You promised me,” Steve said, suddenly desperate. He grabbed Bucky by his shirt, keeping him there. “The way we _were_. Before the serum, before the alley. You and me.” And he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t drag in a breath and Bucky told him to breathe, forced him to copy him as he breathed in and out until he settled. Just like they used to do. After everything that had happened and how he’d changed, it turned out he could still have a panic attack.

“I know. I’ve got it. I’ve got you. We’re okay,” Bucky said, pressing kisses against the top of Steve’s head. And if he noticed that Steve had gotten hard, he was kind enough to ignore it.

 

***

 

Steve could hardly bear to let him out of his sight. He started walking with him to the mess hall and then he got called away, needed to make a report of what all he’d seen when he rescued Bucky. It was going to take some wrangling but Steve wasn’t going to be separated from Bucky again.

He could save him, was now strong enough to keep them both safe and whole. They’d make it through this war and they’d go back to Brooklyn and Bucky would find a nice girl and settle down and Steve would be an uncle and all of this nastiness would be behind them. A shared nightmare they’d drowned deep inside of themselves and each other and then they’d go on.

“Steve,” Peggy called, suddenly beside him. “Congratulations on a job well done. I shouldn’t be surprised, if anyone was going to be the hero, it’s you,” she said, a little smile on her mouth. He felt himself blush.

Could one be a hero and a pervert at the same time? “I’m not so sure about that. It was Bucky. I had to.”

“It wasn’t just Bucky, though. You got us intel that will be invaluable, you saved a lot of men. Don’t downplay the accomplishment,” she said, watching him. Looking for something.

She was beautiful. More beautiful than he deserved. And far smarter and stronger and that was all her. Steve was a lie, just some test tube god of a man and anyone who’d looked past him before now looked at him, because they wanted Captain America. “Peggy, I’m begging you, if there is something that can be done to get him out of here, get him home—“

“He won’t leave you, Steve.” She sounded so sure. She had no idea.

“You don’t know that. We’ve had some ups and downs.”

“That’s life. I know people. He won’t leave you. And he’s a good sniper who would give his life defending you. I’ll do what I can to make sure you’re not separated.”

“Thank you, Peggy,” he managed. She gave him that smile and he wondered if maybe when this was over if he could make it with Peggy. If she’d have him, could he settle down with her and he wouldn’t just have to be the godfather to Bucky’s children. Maybe he could have his own.

And then he went to find Bucky.

He’d been given a tent with a cot and everything. Steve had his bag, had hoped to find him there but it was empty. He was outside, staring into the forest at nothing. “Look at you, got the fancy digs now, huh?”

“Guess so,” Bucky muttered, shredding a piece of grass between his fingers. “Although, I don’t think I can sleep alone. Isn’t that strange?”

“No. Being around people, feeling safe after what you just went through, wanting to feel safe doesn’t seem strange at all.” Bucky turned, looked him up and down. Saw Steve’s bag on his shoulder.

“Am I getting a roommate then?” he asked, a hint of the old charming Bucky peeking through. “You here to answer my prayers?”

“If you’ll have me,” he asked, and couldn’t bear to look at him. He kicked a pebble in front of him, hoping he wasn’t blushing as much as he felt like he was.

Bucky came closer, he heard his steps, felt him like lightning about to snap. He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, a small squeeze and then kept walking. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back,” he said, and Steve had no choice but to let him go.

Steve went into the tent, set up his bedroll a few feet away from Bucky’s. It wasn’t like there was a lot of room. He found the packet of letters he’d written but never sent in his bag next to his wash kit. He pulled them out, looked at them, not understanding how a few ounces could feel so fucking heavy. He was tempted to burn them.

He put them on top of his stuff and put his bag to the side. Bucky came back at around ten, his tread heavy outside the tent, the flap fumbling for a second. Steve sighed in disappointment and wondered how much he’d had to drink.

When he came in Steve was stunned into silence. He’d shaved, showered and changed. He looked so dear and the same and yet so much older. Thinner and the things he’d seen somehow clung to him. Bucky caught him staring. “My ma would sit me in a chair and make me eat for a week straight if she saw me like this.”

He summoned a smile. “Yeah, she would.”

Bucky stumbled over his sleeping bag and sat down hard on a stool. “Jesus. The room is spinning. I definitely shouldn’t have drunk…whatever that was.”

“Then why did you?”

“It was there,” He muttered, burping quietly. “First rule of war, Stevie. Take comfort where you can because it may be your last.”

“Let me get your boots. We’ll get you to bed.”

“Playing valet? You’re not even hollering at me. Drunk as a skunk and you’re going to take care of me? Maybe I have died and gone to heaven.”

Steve had nothing to say to that. He unlaced Bucky’s boot instead. They’d had a number of arguments over the years about Bucky coming home drunk. Drunk and smeared in lipstick or drenched in some woman’s scent. Not just perfume, either. The _stink_ of them. And Steve would be in such a simmering rage at the injustice of it all.

He set the boot to the side and took off the other one. “Thanks, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured and pushed to his feet, moving away from Steve and falling to his bedroll.

“You wanna take your jacket off? Your belt?”

“Nah. Wouldn’t be surprised if I have to get up in the night. The odds of us actually getting a night here, the two of us without being shelled or fired upon seems a little too good to be true, don’t you think?”

“If you feel that way then I’m kind of surprised you were gone all evening and got utterly shit faced,” Steve said, pretty sure his resentment had come through loud and clear.

His head turned, eyes narrowed. “Are you, Stevie?”

Steve took off his jacket, undid his buttoned up shirt and set them aside. He took off his belt but left his pants on as it would just be weird to take them off now. It took a moment for Bucky’s words to process. “What does that mean?”

“You think I want to remember anything that happened there?” he threw an arm over his face.

“You can tell me,” Steve said, dousing the light and laying down near him. He couldn’t see more than the lump of him in the dark.

“Not a lot to tell. Those Germans…they aren’t playing around. Experiments. Hooked me up to things. Sometimes I was high as a kite and sometimes I’d be aware that I was repeating my name and rank over and over again. Like something in my brain had gone on a loop. And you know, sometimes the pain…and there was hunger.”

He couldn’t stand this, being so far away from him. “Please let me touch you.”

“Touch me,” he breathed out, like he wasn’t sure the words were English. “Who’s that for? You or me?”

“Both?” he whispered, hoping he was right.

“Yeah. Well, I thought to myself, self, you really stumbled into it this time. Lost my best friend, got captured, was going to die like some animal butchered on a table and I was pretty sure no one would ever touch me in a nice way ever again.”

Steve’s eyes adjusted but it was still so damned dark he didn’t know what was happening two feet away from him. But, Steve thought maybe, just maybe, he saw Bucky’s arm move away from his face, his head turning in the dark, assessing Steve.

“I’ve got no right. I know it, but please—“

“Come here, Stevie,” he said, and Steve moved closer instantly, wrapping an arm around his waist, burying his face against Bucky’s neck. It was damp with tears, Bucky crying silently in the dark. And why was that worse somehow? That he was doing it silently? Like it was a secret he had to keep from everyone including Steve?

“I’m strong now, Buck. There isn’t anything you could do that I can’t take.”

Bucky’s hand froze on Steve’s arm. “I don’t know what I want. What you’re saying.”

“It means…it means I love you,” Steve whispered. “I love you more than myself, more than I should.”

A sigh. “Oh, Stevie,” he said, sounding heart broken. “Every time we could have parted something got in the way. Your ma wanted to move and then she passed away so you stayed. You could have stayed on your own but we moved in together. You got so sick you never found anyone else, you were just stuck with me. And now…what we did, in that alley, that should have torn us apart too, but we’re here. Then I should have died in that camp but you saved me. We always wind up together.”

“I don’t care what the orders are. If you’ll let me stay, then that’s it. I won’t leave you, again.”

A laugh, and he felt Bucky’s hand stroke along his back. His voice was very soft. “You love me more than you should, you won’t leave me again. You’re making all kinds of promises tonight, Stevie.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Would Bucky push him away? He could feel the other man thinking, his muscles tense, the air heavy with things unsaid.

“No, that’s not what I want,” he said. The question was there but Steve couldn’t make himself ask it. _What do you want?_

But he could say the next best thing. “I’ll give it to you. Whatever it is, my answer is yes.” It was difficult, these little offers of willingness, this attempt to say the right thing but to also offer the wrong thing.

 _“_ I want to not think about what they did to me. I want to feel something good.”

Steve moved then, shifted over and pushed himself up, got between Bucky’s legs and reached for his belt, undid it and then his pants, heart thundering.

He couldn’t see him but he could hear him, Bucky’s breath coming in harsh pants. The zipper was unbearably loud and he was scared that would be enough to make Bucky come back to his senses but it wasn’t. He pulled out Bucky’s cock, only half hard and instantly put his mouth on him, not wasting a single fucking second.

“Jesus,” Bucky whispered, and his hips arched up, pressing himself into Steve’s mouth, so deep he gagged. A hand landed on Steve’s head, gripping him in apology, a tap on the face that was halfway to a slap it was so clumsy. “Wrap your hand around the base so I don’t choke you.”

Steve moaned and did as he was told, licked and sucked hard, a sense of relief going through him when Bucky was fully hard and twitching in his mouth. He wouldn’t come to his senses now. Wouldn’t make Steve stop. And he’d do such a good job that Bucky would always want this from him. He flattened his tongue under the head of his cock and Bucky thrust up again.

Steve tried to go deeper, wanting to take more, willing to choke on it if that was what Bucky wanted. “Stop now or I’ll—“ Steve sucked harder, taking more, unwilling to pull off. He wanted to taste him, wanted him pouring down Steve’s throat and into his stomach. This part of Bucky and maybe he’d absorb it into his blood and it would be with him forever.

Bucky came silently, hand fisting hard enough in Steve’s hair to bring tears to his eyes, as he pulsed endlessly in Steve’s mouth. He swallowed it all, nursed him as long as Bucky let him, until he was soft and calm, until Bucky released his hair and began to pet him instead.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered and Steve shifted up. He felt fingers on his lips and then down the side of his neck to his chest and lower until he cupped Steve though his pants, felt the aching hardness of him.

“Did you like that?”

“I loved it,” he confessed, so fucking thankful it was dark.

“You gonna let me take care of you now?”

“You always take care of me,” Steve said, repressively.

“So, what do you want then?” he asked, and he could feel the heat of his breath so close to his lips.

“Want to be with you,” he whispered, grabbing onto Bucky’s shirt. Bucky kissed him lightly on the lips and Steve felt his cock jerk in need. God he was hard. So hard and full he couldn’t hardly stand it. His hips pressed forward a little, pushing his cock against Bucky’s hip. Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, pressing it into Steve’s hand. And then he was opening Steve’s pants, pulling his cock out and Steve was shaking, kissing him hard as his hips rocked into the touch.

Bucky shushed him, tried to calm him a little but it was too much, it was everything he’d ever wanted and the feel of Bucky’s rough hand wrapped around him, his body held so close, Bucky’s lips on his, his tongue thrusting into Steve’s mouth, and he fumbled with the handkerchief, terrified he was going to come all over Bucky.

The orgasm rolled through him and he shoved himself away, got the cloth over the head of his cock just as he started spurting, used his other hand to jerk himself through it. He was breathing shakily and Bucky was there, pushed up onto an elbow trying to see him in the dark.

“And I thought I needed that.”

Steve chuckled. “You have no idea. This serum, I swear.” He cleaned himself up, balled up the handkerchief and because he wasn’t sure what the hell the etiquette was in a situation like this, he shoved it in his pocket. He buttoned his pants and lay there, the rush of orgasm fading, reality brutal and oppressive around them. “Don’t tell me you regret this,” he said, realizing too late that he’d used his Captain America voice. All confidence and bluster.

“I won’t say that,” Bucky said, and Bucky pulled him closer, adjusting them both until he was curled close to Steve, his head under Steve’s chin. Steve ran a hand through Bucky’s hair until they both fell asleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_“_ What did you mean last night when you mentioned the serum?” Bucky asked him, as they were marching to God knows where with the sun high overhead and men muttering all around them. He’d woken up this morning and gone for a run, his body filled with energy and his cock hard enough to pound nails after spending the night with Bucky wrapped around him. He hadn’t known what to expect, had been scared Bucky might regret it, so he’d gone for a run, jerked off twice and then the whole camp had disbanded and set out on the move. This was the first chance they’d had to talk. Steve blushed and looked around them, worried someone was listening.

“Just, um, seems like I need it more often.” Bucky looked at him speculatively, then at Steve’s mouth and down his body and back up again. He’d never expected to see that scheming look directed at him. It was the sort of look Bucky’d given fast girls who wanted him. Girls he’d known were a sure thing. “Don’t do that,” he hissed, and a moment later he was trying to adjust his pants, his cock half-hard because of a damned look.

“What about the other thing? In the alley. You weren’t big and strong then.”

“Are you asking if I still like that kind of thing? Being—“ he looked around them, waited a moment for the guy behind him, Garnier, to start talking to someone else before continuing. “Overpowered?”

“Is that what you’d call it?” Bucky asked, brows drawn.

“I don’t know. Nothing changed for me beyond my body. I still like the same things and hate broccoli. I’m the same,” he said, looking anywhere but at Bucky as he talked. It was so mortifying. Why was he asking? And here of all places?

“Uh huh. Cause in the alley it seemed like—“

“I don’t want to talk about this right now. I don’t even know why you want to know.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

Bucky gave him a look, licked his lips absently and then shrugged. “Alright. I want something to think about, that’s all. Why think about how we might die at any moment when I can be thinking about…what happened,” he said, looking around them to see if anyone was listening. He dropped his voice and Steve strained to hear him. “I bet you were pretty as a picture. But it was so dark who can tell.”

“Bucky,” he whispered, a shiver of need running over him.

“What I keep thinking is that it’s a good thing you got what you wanted in that alley. Because you’re a damned brick wall now. No one’s pinning you down and forcing you.”

“Guess not,” he managed.

“And I was thinking that was a shame, because it seemed to me that you really liked that.”

Steve is practically begging him with his eyes. “I did. I would, I—” Steve stops, runs straight into the guy in front of him, so distracted and hopeful that Bucky might rough him up a little that he hadn’t even heard anyone tell them to halt.

Bucky wasn’t even trying to stop his smug smile. “Don’t worry, pal. I think I get it.” 

 

***

 

They were quartered in a little town lined with cobbled streets and a truly blessed amount of non-bombed out buildings. Bucky and Steve were set up in a nice apartment near headquarters and the CO’s in case Steve was needed. Bucky dropped his stuff and set off to scour the town while Steve went off to do whatever it was the higher ups wanted him to do now.

There ware a few things he was looking for. While the guys were all searching for jewelry and valuables, Bucky was looking for silk and petroleum jelly. He was looking for a whorehouse. And he found one. He took several silk scarves, a lot of lubricant and a few other little odds and ends that he found intriguing. A cock ring and a glass dildo, some little weights he could attach to Steve’s nipples or maybe his balls depending. He got carried away. And he was just heading out when some of the other guys showed up, wondering what all there was to be found in the town’s house of ill repute.

“Sarge. Find something for your girl or for your right hand?” Garnier asked.

“I should give you the back of my right hand for a disrespectful comment like that,” he said, but the guys rolled their eyes, not taking him seriously. “Nudie magazines are on the second floor, I left you a few.”

They took off up the stairs and Bucky left the building, adjusting his backpack as he walked down the street. He saw an apple tree down a narrow gap between houses, picked several and then went back to their lodgings, happily eating an apple and thinking about the various depraved things he might be able to talk Steve into.

Steve wasn’t back yet so he cleaned everything he’d taken. Frankly, everything had seemed bizarrely clean in the first place but it wasn’t the sort of thing one took a chance with. Steve came home just as he was rinsing off the glass dildo and setting it on the drying rack.

“The good news is we’re here for at least a few days, the bad news is— what the fuck is that?” Steve asked, looking from the dildo to the wet, dripping scarves and back again. His face went red as a beet and he bit his bottom lip, then scanned the items again. “Where did you go?”

“Local brothel.”

“Brothel,” Steve said, like he’d never said the word before.

“Ran into some guys just as I was leaving. They asked me if I was getting stuff for my best girl or my right hand.”

“And you said, what, exactly?” Steve asked, a tremble in his voice.

“I said something witty but irrelevant. I got stuff for us. Depending on what takes your interest.”

Steve’s gaze went straight to the dildo and slid away. “You can’t just put that in someone,” he said, but he knew Steve well and Steve could be a god damned liar when he wanted to. He looked all innocent and then he’d tell Bucky something a little sideways, a little off and this was just like that but Bucky didn’t quite understand how. 

“I’ve got jelly to ease the way.”

“Oh. Is that…something you’d want?”

“Come here,” Bucky ordered, leaning against the sink expectantly. Steve came forward, didn’t stop until he was standing between Bucky’s legs. Bucky stood up, switched their places so Steve was against the counter, kicking his feet open with his boot. Steve dragged in a breath and spread his legs so they were the same height. “Better.”

He looked at Steve for a long moment, unswerving eye contact. Steve began to breathe faster, he shifted on his feet and Bucky reached out a hand, cupped Steve’s balls in his palm, pressed his wrist against the fat length of him. “Yeah, I’m thinking that’s something I’m gonna want from you,” he said, and Steve groaned as he offered his mouth, trying to kiss Bucky. His hands came up to pull Bucky closer and Bucky pushed them back down to the counter.

“Oh fuck,” Steve gasped and his head dropped down like his strings had been cut. “When are you going to do it? Now?”

“Not now.” Honest to god he looked so disappointed that Bucky barked out a laugh.

“It isn’t funny. I’ve been hard all day for you, dinner is in an hour and I just…can I suck you, again?” he asked, licking his lips when he saw Bucky looking at them.

“You gonna suck me off twice before I’ve done it to you once?” he joked.

Steve was already reaching for Bucky’s pants. “I’ve wanted you my entire life. Now it turns out I get to have you and so, yeah, given half a chance I’ll get down on my knees for you,” he says, and he gets his hand into Bucky’s pants, gives him a quick stroke and pulls him out. He gets Bucky to back up a step and drops to his knees, sets to work instantly, sucking him deep and urgently. He takes him as deep as he can and breathes in through his nose, buries his face against the crease of Bucky’s leg. He pulls off, looks up at Bucky, pupils blown wide, lips shiny with spit. “Do whatever you want,” he whispers and Bucky gives him a smile, sweet and sincere, filled with the love and affection he feels for this man on his knees in front of him, that Steve grabs his hand, kisses the palm and presses it against his head. Bucky runs fingers through Steve’s hair like he wants.

“I don’t know what I want. But you do, so tell me what you want and I’ll do that.”

“I want you to fuck my face. I want you to come on me and in me and—“

Bucky grabs him then, shoves him forward onto his cock and he moans gratefully, takes him farther and deeper and then gags just a little. Bucky tries to move back, to give him space but Steve grabs him by the ass, keeps him there and goes back again, tries to breathe through the fluttering of his throat muscles. Bucky is watching him, both amazed and curious. “They asked me if I was getting stuff for my best girl,” Bucky says, shakily and pulls out of Steve’s mouth so just the tip is between his lips. “Get your hand around the base, Steve,” he orders and Steve does so. Bucky thrusts forward, Steve’s hand banging against his lips. They both like that, groaning at the same time and Bucky does it again, harder, faster, deeper. “No best girl could suck me like this, could they?” he asks, and Steve tries to shift his grip, make it flatter so Bucky can get more of himself into the wet heat of Steve’s mouth. “No best girl would offer me her ass and want to suck my cock when I’ve been out in the heat all day now would they?”

Steve grunts a no and the flex of his tongue, the rumble of sound in his throat forces a spurt of come out of him. Steve swallows eagerly, Bucky can see his throat working. He puts a hand on Steve’s cheek, tries to feel the shape of himself through the skin. He pushes his finger into Steve’s mouth sliding it in and out alongside his cock, the sight oddly arousing. “You’re so good at this, Steve. Such a good cocksucker. I’m going to come on your face. Is that okay?” he asks, suddenly unsure.

Steve nods enthusiastically and Bucky pulls out of his mouth, jerks himself hard and fast and aims the head of his cock at Steve’s mouth, at his tongue which is eagerly waiting for his come. He comes hard, streaks of it cover Steve’s cheek, his forehead, even over his eye. He comes on Steve’s nose and it drips into Steve’s mouth and the final pulses land there too. Steve waits, mouth open and Bucky wipes the last of the come clinging on his cock onto Steve’s lip. He swallows and waits. His hands are white as they dig into his own thighs, the large shape of Steve’s cock visible through his pants.

“I’ll either suck your cock or feed you my come. What do you want?”

The question takes Steve by surprise. He blinks, seems almost tortured by having to choose. For some reason that makes Bucky’s cock twitch. His refractory period has gone down drastically since he was captured by Zola but he’s trying not to think about it. It could just be Steve and how much he wants him.

“How will you feed it to me?” he asks, and his hands start rubbing up and down his legs absently. He sees the question on Bucky’s face. “Would you use your fingers to wipe it off my face and then feed it to me, or….”

“Or?” he asks, darkly.

“Or your mouth and I,”Steve swallows, looks away. His choice clear. 

“Look at me, baby.” Steve turns, pupils blown wide. Bucky makes sure to enunciate clearly and slowly as it’s clear Steve likes it when Bucky says filthy things to him. “I’m going to lick it off of you and then kiss you and you’ll swallow it all down.”

“Yeah, I want that,” Steve says, without hesitation.

“Take out your cock first,” Bucky orders. Steve frowns then does as he’s told, cock red and wet at the tip. He squats down next to Steve, wraps a hand around him and strokes him gently. Steve’s nostrils flare, his eyes slam shut and he breathes like a man in pain.

“Oh, Stevie. I like you like this. You have no idea,” he says, and he kisses him on the cheek, uses his tongue to swipe up his come and then kisses Steve, feeding it into his mouth. Steve sucks on his tongue, fucks into Bucky’s fist and it’s beyond desperate. The cock in his hand throbs warningly and Bucky yanks his hand away. Steve cries out and Bucky shoves his fingers into Steve’s mouth to shut him up. He gives him a moment to calm down then kisses his nose gently, almost innocent, with a soft kitten lick to get the cooling come completely off and then pulls his fingers out of Steve’s mouth and shoves his tongue in. Steve’s hips jerk up, searching for Bucky’s fist and friction.

“None of that now. Surely you aren’t that desperate for it are you, sweetheart?” He kisses Steve’s cheek and feeds him more come. Does it over and over until his face is technically clean although there is definitely something debauched about him. He gives Steve a last gentle kiss but doesn’t pull away. His hands are on Steve’s thighs and Steve is back on his heels, cock hard and dripping in front of him. He must be desperately uncomfortable on this hardwood floor, Bucky thinks, but that seems the least of it. His eyes are halfway closed, his mouth is open and he’s hauling in air like he’s run a mile.

“It’s almost dinner time.” Steve blinks in this adorably confused way. “I don’t think I can send you out there like this. You look like you’re gagging for it, sweetheart.” Steve flinches but his cock drips at the words. _Interesting._ “You’re dripping, baby. Making a mess all over the floor. I need you to be honest with me now. You’re so beautiful down there, you ate all my come like a champ and you made me hard again. Look, I’ll show you,” Bucky says and Steve’s gaze drops, fixated as Bucky undoes his pants again, pulls his cock out, hard but not desperately so. “This isn’t urgent, babydoll. I can wait. We have time for one of us to come before we go. But only one. You’re going to choose.”

“I don’t know,” he says, and it’s like Bucky’s asked him to do complicated math instead of who’s going to get their dick sucked.

“Then maybe it should be you,” he says, and he goes back down to the ground, puts a hand around Steve’s cock. “Yeah, it should be you,” he says, kissing the bolt of Steve’s jaw, whispering in his ear. Steve presses his head against Bucky’s mouth, his body shaking he’s so worked up and come slides down the shaft, coating Bucky’sfingers.But he’s working off a theory and he wants to know.

“Should be you, Stevie. Look at how much you need it. And it might take me awhile. I’d have to fuck your face pretty hard, baby doll. Think I’d wreck your throat, make you all hoarse. And that would be distracting. I’d be thinking about it all through dinner, how I did that to you. How you took that for me.”

He grabs Bucky’s wrist, stops him. A guttural sound escapes him, dragged from somewhere deep inside him. It takes him a minute to speak. “You then. You.” Bucky lets him go, lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks Steve’s come off his fingers.

“You sure? You taste good, sweetheart.” Steve turns his head away, chest heaving. His cock flexes, drips. Bucky pushes to his feet.

“Alright, then, come on now,” he says and he grabs Steve by the chin, turns his face and brings him to his cock, sinks home and moans. He chokes Steve on the first thrust, something dark and greedy inside him wanting more and more. Wanting to see Steve suffer for him. Tears come down Steve’s cheeks and he wipes them away, brings a thumb to his mouth and tastes that too.

“You spoil me, sweetheart. So good to me. Firm up those lips, baby, get that tongue working, it’s gotta be fast. I’ll just— fuck— I want your head like this,” he says, and he tilts Steve head and fucks in hard and deep. Steve breathes frantically, chokes and Bucky doesn’t stop, keeps going. “You wantedthis, didn’t you, baby?”

Steve doesn’t respond, is just trying to keep up, to keep his mouth how Bucky wants it. “Tap me if it’s too much. Get a hand on my balls, I’m not as ready as you are. You’re gonna have to work me up to it. There you go. So good. Fuck, Stevie. I wish I had more come for you. If I was full up like you, but you’ve drained me dry, haven’t you?” Steve makes a sound, almost hopeless, and it’s too much, too good so he shoves home, deep into Steve’s throat, feels it spasm around him and he comes in slow pulses, coating the back of Steve’s throat. He gives it a moment, draws it out, feels Steve’s fingers digging harder and harder into his leg. He pulls out and Steve chokes hard, tears dripping off his chin.

“Fuck, that was good. I need a nap now. Come up here, let me help you put yourself away,” he says. Steve shakes his head in denial, his hand goes to his throat and he swallows carefully. Bucky has a moment of panic, of regret, fear that he’s finally gone too far and that he read Steve all wrong. He stands there dreading what’s going to happen next. Steve pulls himself to his feet, sways where he stands, looks at Bucky’s lips. “I love you. Fuck, I love you so god damned much,” he says, voice trashed. “I needed that, thank you.”

“Grab that towel. Let’s finish you off before we go.”

Steve straightens. “You said there wasn’t time.”

“It won’t take long,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“But I was going to wait. I _can_ wait.”

“You earned it. Let me,” Bucky says, but doesn’t move. He has no idea what Steve is going to say. So much of this has just been his instincts or what the most depraved thing is he can think of, but he’s pretty sure that Steve is more than a little ahead of him. That the things he wants are darker than Bucky can come up with. “Come on now. I hurt to look at you. Face the sink if you want.”

Curious, Steve turns and faces the sink. Bucky steps in behind him, wraps a hand around him and strokes him. Steve’s body tenses, his hands grip the sink and his hips drive forward despite himself. Three strokes and he’s coming hard, the force of his contractions so strong that he hears come hit the metal sink. “There you go, baby,” he says, and he keeps stroking him through it, waiting for Steve to tell him it’s too much. His breathing goes careful, even but still he doesn’t make Bucky stop. Bucky stops his hand and Steve relaxes.

“Would you have told me to stop?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says.

“I kept thinking you’d be overstimulated. That it would hurt.”

“It did.”

Bucky has questions. But if they don’t go to dinner now they’ll miss it completely.And in the back of the mind is the niggling suspicion that maybe he doesn’t want to know just how much pain Steve actually wants.

 

***

 

Steve gets called away after dinner and then they’re moving out and deep in the trenches for weeks killing various nazis and trying to win the war one inch of land at a time. It’s exhausting and Bucky can feel it gnawing at the both of them, wearing them down.

Steve is getting that look in his eyes that Bucky remembers from home. The sort of wide-eyed fifty-yard stare that used to mean he was about to find himself in some alley getting the crap beaten out of him for some stupid excuse like someone talking during a movie or something.

But they’re surrounded by people, he can barely get a word with Steve without ten people standing around listening or chiming in, let alone a chance to do something that might help them both let off a little steam. It all comes to a breaking point the next day when Steve throws himself headfirst into a building filled with nazis and not nearly enough backup.

When Steve comes out he’s limping because he’s been shot in the calf. The bullet went straight through and it’s likely he’ll be healed up in the next day or two but it still makes Bucky crazy. He’sso outraged he doesn’t even notice that Peggy is there with him. “Sergeant Barnes,” she says, in that strong, feminine voice. He nods at her. “What’s going on with Steve?”

“He’s fine. It’s just a flesh wound.”

“No, I mean why did he put himself into danger like that?”

Great. So now it was something everyone noticed. “He’s got a damn screw loose, that’s why.”

“How do we fix that? His behavior is reckless,” she says, and he’s worried she’s even smarter than she looks.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at here,” he says, a jolt of fear going through him. She’s too damned smart for her own good. A hell of a lot smarter than the pair of them that’s for sure.

“My understanding is you’ve always been there for Steve. That if anyone can keep him in line it’s you. So, why are you unable to accomplish that now?”

His brain is frantically working, trying to come up with something logical that might also get them some time alone. Seems unlikely. He scrubs a hand across his jaw, smells gunpowder residue on his fingers from covering Steve. “Back home, we have a lot of space. Familiarity. But here there’s lots of people, constant expectation. Everyone wants him to be perfect, to be more than he is. He can’t just be…alone for a few hours.”

“Right. Alone,” she says, and he can see her thinking. “I believe I can get you two days. I have two agents stationed at a farmhouse several miles from here. They’d like a break. It’s very boring waiting for Nazi scientists to turn up when we know the place is abandoned. But, we have to keep watching it anyway. It would be simple, no engagement. If anything happens you’re to radio in but otherwise you can have a bit of time,” she says, as if it’s actually that easy.

He opens his mouth, closes it again. It seems too good to be true. “You’d just send us there for two days to be with each other?” He blushes, realizes how it sounds. “I mean, to be away from all this.”

She touches him on the arm. “Steve means a great deal to me. You’re his best friend and I think you’re right. This does wear on him. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be pretending to be perfect and brave all the time.” Her smile is crisp, a little sharp and she turns to leave. “I’ll have precise instructions in an hour or so,” she says, and then she’s gone, a whirlwind of a woman.

Steve should marry her, he thinks and the thought is painful, horrible but Bucky is also a realist. This thing they have here, it can’t go on forever. When the war is over he’ll probably marry one of the girls his ma is always trying to set him up with and Steve will go and marry Peggy and this will all seem like a weird fever dream.

But, until that time, Steve is his, and all he can think about is getting him alone. Steve can’t put himself in danger like this anymore. He won’t allow it.

 

***

 

They get dropped off in the middle of the night, two miles from the farmhouse. The driver of the jeep stays in the dark, waiting for them to send back the other soldiers for their two days back at camp. Steve has an arm wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders by the time they get there, breath coming heavily as his wound pains him. He props him up next to a tree and gets out his clicker, mimicking the sound of crickets to alert the soldiers that they’re there. A moment goes by and they get an answering two clicks. Bucky steps out of the trees and heads towards the farmhouse.

The guards they’re replacing are packed up and smiling, ready to head out in under ten minutes. Bucky shows them where the jeep is on the map, hands it over and then gets Steve brought in and settled on a ripped up couch on the second floor.

He goes down to get some food from the kitchen and comes back to find Steve asleep. Getting shot will do that to you, he thinks grimly. He gets they’re bed rolls sorted out, double checks the safeguards the other soldiers had left so that they’d know if someone was coming, and then lays down and goes to sleep as well. He wakes up to fingers on his pants, a hand on his cock and then wet heat all around him. Bucky groans, takes in Steve who is leaning over him, sucking his cock like it’s a prize and watching Bucky intently. He puts a hand down, strokes a finger along Steve’s stubbled jaw.

“Fuck, I’ve missed your mouth,” he says, and Steve groans in agreement. Bucky thinks about doing something a little pro-active, but fuck Steve looks good with his mouth full of cock and he looks happy too, so Bucky lets him work, thrusts deep when the mood hits him and then comes down Steve’s throat.

Steve swallows and pulls off, shuffles up Bucky’s body, face flushed. He’s moving in for a kiss but Bucky shoves him and Steve goes to his back, eyes wide as Bucky moves over him. He takes a moment to get into his pack, pulls out the bottle of lube he’s been hauling around for weeks and opens Steve’s pants, gets his cock out and sucks him in deep.

Steve is big and hard, his body instantly trembling and he’s chanting Bucky’s name like he’s a damned miracle worker. He pops off for a moment and helps Steve get his clothes off, stripping him to nothing. Goosebumps break out over his body from the chill in the air and Bucky moves Steve’s legs, opens them wide and then gets his mouth back on Steve’s cock.

He gets his fingers slicked up and then finds Steve’s hole, stroking over it lightly and pressing gently while Steve tilts his hips up in invitation. “God, yes. I need you in me. I’ve been dying for it,” he gasps and he presses his hips down, Bucky’s finger sinking into him to the first knuckle. Steve’s mouth opens, his hands go to his chest and he starts plucking at his nipples, completely lost in his own world. Bucky lets go of Steve’s cock and the man keens at the loss, opens his eyes and stares at Bucky, begging him silently.

Bucky slicks up his fingers some more and presses a finger deep into Steve. His thighs clench and relax. “More. I can take it.”

This is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. He snorts. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been practicing.”

“When?” he asks, incredulous.

“In the shower, if I have a moment, sometimes in the night if I can’t sleep.”

“Where are you keeping the lube?”

Steve looks annoyed now. “I have spit.”

“You’re going to fucking hurt yourself.”

Steve blinks at him. “I thought that was the idea?”

Is he serious? “No, if you’re prepped enough it’ll be okay.”

“So, you’re the expert now?”

“I know enough to tell you that people use lube when they shove something up their ass!”

“Give me another finger. Hell, give me two more. Come on, Buck.”

“I’m not going to just shove three fingers up your ass without a by your leave.” Bucky takes his finger out, coats a second finger and presses it to Steve’s hole. He begins to slide in and Steve’s hand goes to his cock, fisting himself hard and then letting himself go after a long, dangerous moment.

“Sorry. I’ve been needing you for days. Now it’s here and I’m gonna go off before you tell me to.”

He smiles. “Just come. We’ve got time.”

Steve’s eyes slam shut and he bites his lip. “Want you in me. I’m ready, give me three,” he says, and Bucky doesn’t think he is but it’s Steve’s body so he does as he asks, three fingers pressing slowly into him. Steve’s cock jerks, come dribbles out the tip as Bucky sinks in as far as his fingers will go.

He’s searching for Steve’s prostate, knows he finds it because of the noise Steve makes and rubs over it until more come seeps out of Steve’s cock and his body is trembling. He kisses Steve then, rubs him gently on the inside and the little huffs of air Steve is panting tell him how close Steve is to the edge. “Can you come for me, baby?”

“But, you’re milking me, I can feel it coming out.”

“But that’s not an orgasm. Don’t you want to come?”

“I want you to come inside me first,” Steve says, and he presses rough fingers to Bucky’s cheeks as he pulls him closer for a kiss.

Bucky takes his fingers out and Steve whimpers. “You okay?” Bucky demands.

Steve frowns at him. “Need you to fuck me already. I can’t…I thought I was yours.”

“You are mine. My sweetheart,” Bucky says, and he slicks up his cock with lube. He wipes his hand on Steve’s chest and Steve nods like Bucky has finally done something right. He presses his cock to Steve’s hole, so hot and tight, now pink and a little open after all the fingering he’s done. “You gonna tell me if it hurts?”

“Whatever you want,” Steve says and he tilts, trying to get Bucky’s cock into him. Bucky slaps him on the thigh and Steve stills.

“I liked it when you touched your tits. Do that some more. Show ‘em off for me,” Bucky says and he pushes in, cock sinking in slowly. Steve gets his hands on his chest, squeezing the flesh hard, fingers digging into the meat of them and then pinches his nipples so hard they go white. He releases them and his body relaxes, Bucky’s cock sliding in another half inch. Steve tenses up again, thighs pressing against Bucky’s sides.

“Please, just give it to me. Just fuck into me hard. Wanna feel you.”

“What if it hurts?”

“I don’t care,” Steve says. Bucky knows that’s true. He does. But this seems a little different. He wouldn’t want someone just shoving a cock hard into his ass. Cause you know, he’s sane. But, he’s not sure Steve Rogers has ever been sane.

“You tell me to stop and I will.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says and there’s something in his voice that makes Bucky think Steve finds that disappointing. He leans over him, caging Steve with his body and thrusts home slowly, watching Steve’s face as he does it. Steve arches against the pain or with it, Bucky doesn’t know, and he keeps forcing his way in, one relentless thrusts until his balls are against Steve’s cheeks and he’s in him to the root.

“You’re in?” Steve asks, rhetorical, a little breathy. “Move now. Just fuck me now,” Steve demands and Bucky slowly starts to pull out, freezing when Steve hisses in pain. “Don’t stop,” Steve whimpers, and he’s using his thighs to try to pull Bucky in closer. Steve is impatient and it’s annoying as hell. This was supposed to be sweet, but he can’t help but feel like they’re in a dance and Bucky is one step off or something.

“You’re being a punk,” he says.

“If you don’t like it, make it stop,” Steve says, like Bucky is stupid.

Bucky grabs him by the jaw hard, makes sure Steve is looking at him and then slaps him across the face. “I’ll decide,” he growls.

“Jesus Christ, more of that,” Steve says, and he feels Steve’s muscles contract around his cock.

“Damn you,” Bucky says, his whole body trembling. Doesn’t Steve understand how good he’s being? How careful and thoughtful? Does he have _any_ idea how hard it is for him to go slow? In a fit of anger, he slams his hips home and that makes Steve come, makes him cry out and he can feel Steve’s cock pulsing between their stomachs.

Steve is quiet for a moment and Bucky shifts a little, Steve’s face goes a little white and Bucky doesn’t move, worried about how much he’s hurting him. “No, you’ve gotta do it now, please Buck. Just fuck me through it, get yours. God, I wanna give that to you,” he says, and Bucky pulls out half way and shoves home deep. Steve lifts his head, seeking Bucky’s lips. Bucky kisses him messily, just tongue and need and Steve offers no resistance, puts hands down to his thighs and tries to open his body up more, let Bucky get a bit deeper.

He doesn’t understand this. He gets the games and how some of it can be hot but this desire for sex to be all pain and like some battle he’s fighting against himself is unfathomable to him. But Bucky’s hard and he loves this man and this is what Steve wants. He closes his eyes, buries his face into Steve’s neck and thrusts in and out of him, using him the way Steve told him to. It takes him a minute to find the best rhythm and get him how he wants and in that time Steve comes again, the mess between them growing. Steve puts a hand down between them, swipes a finger through it and licks it off his finger.

“I could clean off this mess,” Steve says. Bucky slams into him three more times and comes hard, grinding into Steve’s ass for that last little zing of sensation. Then he slowly pulls out and flops down onto his back. Steve is on him instantly, cleaning his own come off of Bucky’s stomach with his mouth, filthier than anything Bucky had ever thought to come up with, Steve’s cock hard again or maybe it was still hard, he doesn’t know.

There is still this wildness to Steve, like he’s pent up and on edge, as though they’ve just come out of battle, his mind spinning and he wants to get him out of that, wants Steve to feel as calm as he does. “How sore are you?” he asks.

“I’m not,” Steve says, and he looks at Bucky’s cock longingly.

“Get on your hands and knees, beautiful,” he says, and Steve goes instantly, ass in the air, head on his forearms, legs spread wide, his channel soaked with come and slick and his hole pink. The man is an absolute slut for it. That’s all there is to it. 

“Alright, baby doll, you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” he says, and Steve’s back arches, his hole clenches and he looks back over his shoulder at Bucky surprised. “Don’t give me that innocent look. Jesus, Rogers, here I am trying to be sweet to you, be a gentleman and you’re not really looking for that at all, are you, pussycat?”

“Bucky, no, I love what we did, of course I did,” he says, and he means it, he does. But it’s also a damned lie and they both know it.

“Oh, sweetheart. This is just a matter of personal pride now. I’m gonna give you what you want and you’re gonna fucking thank me, you understand?” he says, the words a low, frustrated growl. He lines up his cock with Steve’s hole, rests his free hand on Steve’s lower back and slams into him, balls deep in one. Steve collapses, boneless under him, his hole protesting in sharp twitches. Steve sounds like he’s drowning, he’s breathing so hard and these high little sounds of pain are coming from him. “You were sweet for me so now I’ll be mean to you. I know how to take of you, don’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah, Buck you do,” he says, weakly.

“Good. Come on now, up you go,” he demands, and he hauls Steve back up to all fours by his hips, keeping his cock as deep in him as he can. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, you’re gonna be open and you’re gonna say ‘more please’ and I’m gonna give it to you. I’m gonna keep giving it to you until you can’t ask me anymore,” he says, and he lets his fingers dig in hard and then he slams deep again, hears a squelch as his cock meets all the mess and slick he’s left inside Steve.

“Okay.”

He pulls out again, the drag of Steve’s body against his cock so good he has no idea how long he’ll be able to keep this up and pounds him roughly. “No, you say ‘more please.’ We just talked about that, didn’t we?” he says, and he reaches for Steve’s hair, grabs a handful of it tight and forces his head back at an angle that looks painful. Steve’s body ripples around him, he whispers ‘more please’ and he has no idea where this will end, where the bottom will be for Steve. He fucks him hard like for as long as he can and comes, pauses for a minute to get his breath back, body covered in sweat and then pulls all the way out of Steve’s ass and looks at his hole, the redness of it, the way it’s open now. He puts a finger into him, so hot and Steve jerks forward, too sore, but he also says ‘more please’ and some bizarre, sick curiosity makes him decide that he isn’t going to be the one to call an end to this.

He slaps Steve hard on the ass and sees his handprint there. Steve gasps ‘more please’ again and he drags Steve back to where he wants him, shoves three fingers into him and then four, fucking hard and deep and treats him far rougher than he ever would have imagined. “Four fingers look at that. God, you should see how you look back here. You’re not going to be able to sit down for days, sweetheart,”

“Yes. More, please!”

“That what you want? To be ridden hard and put away wet?”

Steve wraps a hand around his cock, spurred on by the words and Bucky pulls his hand off, is aware how much Steve loves and hates the frustration. “I’m gonna give you my cock again, sweetheart. You get me so hard, Stevie.”

Steve is saying ‘more please’ on repeat, a broken record, and there’s a puddle of come under him. The bastard’s come a few times already and it hasn’t slowed him down at all. Bucky was beginning to think he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

But no one had ever called him a quitter. He was going to break Steve down and leave him a spent mess if it fucking killed him. “Christ, it might,” he muttered and Steve cast him a look.

“Just a minute,” Bucky said, and stumbled to his feet. His knees ache from the hard floor. Bucky goes to his pack, takes out the cock ring and comes back to Steve, reaches around him and hesitates. It’s gonna hurt. 

“My balls,” Steve sighed, and Bucky frowned. That was gonna hurt worse. Steve tugged the swollen orbs hard, so high and tight Bucky couldn’t believe he’d managed it. Bucky put the ring around Steve’s balls, the flesh instantly darkening go a painful red.

He put a hand over him, stroked a palm over them, hot and swollen and Steve came, almost dry. He sank his cock into Steve, easy as anything, he was so loose and open and then draped himself over his back, Steve murmuring for more, his voice finally a little slower as the cumulative pain and discomfort got to him. He fucked into him carelessly, chasing his own pleasure and grabbed Steve’s tits, squeezing hard and controlling Steve’s movement by his painful grip.

Steve shook under him, cried out every time Bucky’s balls slapped against his trapped sore ones and it wasn’t long before his words slurred and then stopped altogether. Bucky finished in Steve, gave himself a minute to get his breath back and then released Steve’s breasts, his fingers cramped. Steve whimpered when he pulled out of his ass and practically collapsed to the ground. Bucky stumbled to his feet, found a washcloth and cleaned himself as well as he could with soap and a sink and then went to Steve. He didn’t move at all until he got to Steve’s ass, pressed the cloth against his hole and then Steve made a little sound of protest.

“You were perfect, sweetheart,” he said, and he got the cock ring off too, wincing at how painful it looked.

“Thank you, Bucky. Thank you,” Steve said, and he fell back asleep. Bucky checked the area around the house since they were technically on a mission but there wasn’t anything happening anywhere and it was so quiet he couldn’t even hear any guns or blasts in the distance. It was a fucking miracle. He curled up next to Steve and closed his eyes, expecting to sleep.

But all he could see was Steve. He’d had an idea of how this would go, the dirty talk, a little orgasm denial, some rough sex and he loved the idea of fucking Steve so much he couldn’t talk or he winced when he sat down. It probably didn’t make him a very good person but it was hotter than hell. That he could handle.

And when they got home to Brooklyn he thought that might be enough for Steve too, but out here, with everything that was going on, the stress and the misery around them, the constant threat of death and the weight of making wrong decisions, he didn’t have any idea how he was going to take care of Steve. Give him the sort of intensity and cruelty he wanted.

Maybe he was wrong, making too much of it. They’d rest and then they’d talk, hash it out. They loved each other so they’d make it work. Wasn’t that always enough?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, look. If you're reading this thinking, 'this is a bit much and a little dark but maybe it will get better and they'll be lots of nice sex'. No, no it won't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IMO this chapter might be dub-con but it isn't non-con. Please don't read if that's not your thing.

And then Bucky fell off that train and Steve vowed he’d go with him. Screw saving the world. Screw making a life for himself, having a family. What was the point without Bucky? He looked at Peggy’s face in the compass as the plane went down and he felt a smidge of guilt and a lot of gratitude. She’d always given him hope, made him believe he could do anything. He heard it in her voice that she understood why he wasn’t even trying to survive. She would always respect his choice.

 

***

 

Someone had to return the stones. They’d all looked at each other with so much exhaustion and grief, an unspoken ‘not it’ that Steve had volunteered to do it. Why not? It wasn’t like he was going to get fucked six ways from Sunday or anything. He might get a gentle hand job with lots of kissing and maybe some tears from one or both of them and he honestly didn’t think he had it in him. The odds of him getting out of that type of encounter without pushing Bucky to do something he regretted were low. And if Bucky regretted it then he would to.Probably.

Wandering around the universe returning some stones actually sounded preferable to spending time with each other. How the fuck had they gotten here?

“Do you want to talk about Tony?” Bucky asks, after the service, and Steve wants to punch him.

“What do you think?” Steve snarls.

Bucky is giving him that look, calm and collected, distant and a little like he’s dead inside. “I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

He won’t even comment on the way Steve just spoke to him. Won’t tell Steve he better apologize before he makes it worse for himself. Won’t give him that smirk that says Steve is in for it and Bucky is going to make him regret it.

Oh, no. That Bucky is long gone, erased or buried under trauma, Steve doesn’t know which. He gets kumba-fucking-ya Bucky. Steve’s pretty sure that if he decided he just wanted to be a pillow princess (thanks internet for that helpful bit of terminology) that they’d be golden.

Further research had him deciding that what he really wanted was to be his pain-slut, happy self and get treated like prey. Considering what a prude he’d been when he came out of the ice (and also when he went into the ice, but everyone was a prude then) he was pleased he’d figured himself out. Although, the fact that Bucky had no interest in hunting Steve down in a dark alley and doing horrible things to him was just wrong. It was as though he knew all about building engines and driving, but no one had a fucking car.

It’d been a long five years with many a sleepless nights and he’d fantasized, extensively, about how a reunion with Bucky would be post-Wakanda, after deprogramming and once they’d reversed the snap. The reality of those fantasies coming true were about as solid as ash in the wind.

And now Bucky wants to talk some more. Steve takes a breath, wills himself to be a better person than he is. “I thought…I _thought_ we could pull it off.”

He paces the room, hates how trapped he feels here. The fridge is humming and the ice maker drops a load of ice cubes and he hates that sound. This unexpected rumble at all hours like maybe a tiny building is falling in somewhere, but no it’s his kitchen appliance! Who needs drinks to be that cold anyway?

Bucky is looking at him with infinite patience. Right. Talk. Pretend to be well-adjusted when Steve’s just destroyed everything and everyone. We’ll die together too, he’d told Tony. That was a lie. 

“I didn’t know how we were going to win but we were. And if there was a cost to bear, I was going to do it. But it wasn’t me, it was Nat and it was Tony and it’s his family and…that’s on me. That’s all on me.”

“You can’t buy into your own celebrity that much.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Steve demands.

Bucky sighs, looks around like he doesn’t want to be there either. Where does he want to go? Back to Wakanda? Go away and leave him here _again_?Is being frozen better than this?

A random thought occurs to him: is this why he hates his ice maker? Does it remind Steve of being frozen? Steve bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood. Cause that might be a legitimately insane thought and he’s tempted to laugh.

“It means you’re still a man. You’re strong and you’re smart and people think you’re a superhero but you’re more _and_ less than that. It’s like you’ve decided you’re only worthy if you can meet these ideals.”

“Then give me new ones. What ideals do you want me to have?” he asks, and he knows it’s not the right thing to say but just saying it makes his cock half-hard and that’s a bit of a miracle in itself. He stalks closer to Bucky, is devastated to see him back up. He wants to drop to his knees and beg him to give him something else to fight for. “You don’t even want to be near me,” he says instead. “I _had_ you. Once upon a time, I know it. I could do all of this if I still had _you!_ ” he shouts at Bucky.

“You do have me. You just don’t like what’s left. You wanna leave here together, get a place and have friends over on the weekend? Sam and Wanda? You want to go to Clint’s for BBQ’s and have Morgan call us uncles, then I am there for that. But that’s not what you want from me.”

“I do want that with you,” Steve says, his heart breaking in his chest. But that’s not the whole truth and they both know it. What he needs is Bucky to do more than this. This gentle and careful tenderness. He needs Bucky to wipe the slate clean, obliterate him and remake him. Give him something to believe in.

Hope.

Which makes him think of Peggy. Her determination and strong will. How she’d always believed in his ability to overcome anything. What would she think of him in his crumbling state? He supposed he could ask her. “I’ll take back the stones and then we’ll talk.”

 

***

 

He dances with Peggy. It’s lovely. It makes him feel normal. Like he’s the kind of guy who’s going to go buy a Ford, get a job at a plant somewhere and eat steak every night. He’s going to have a son named Timmy, a dog who likes to play fetch and maybe he’ll build model airplanes in his garage on the weekend. He’ll drink Budweiser.

And it makes him want to kill himself.

He closes his eyes as he holds her, feels guilty that he can’t even get this right. She stops moving, steps back and looks at him. “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on now?”

“I don’t even know how much I can tell you beyond the fact that I’m from an alternate timeline. Had to do some time travel for…reasons. Your Steve Rogers is buried in the ice. Thought I’d say hi, see if you still wanted to have that dance and here we are.”

She looks at him closely. “How old are you?”

“Oh. I’ve been out of the ice for twelve years.”

“Oh,” she says, sadly. She touches him on the chest, a friendly pat, and then takes a step back. “And you haven’t found someone in all that time?”

He isn’t going to mention Sharon. That weird aberration. Bucky used to say that he was just a slut for attention. That Steve was easy for anyone who wanted him. It had just been sexy talk that Steve got off on. But the best sexy talk was based in truth.

And Steve liked to say yes. So, he’d kissed Sharon and that girl in the war office, even Peggy. “Bucky is alive,” he says, instead.

“How? That’s amazing, but how?”

“Long story I probably shouldn’t tell you.”

“And are you two…well?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, defensively.

“Steve, I’m a very progressive woman. And a lot of effort went into making sure the two of you weren’t caught. Can you imagine the scandal if your relationship had been found out? We couldn’t separate you two so we tried to find a work around. You needed each other,” she says, blushing slightly.

She has no idea what he needed. “Oh. He wants to be friends. He doesn’t want to go back to the way we were back then.”

“And?”

“I can do it. It’s worth it because Bucky is everything. It may kill me to do it, but of course I want to. I’m just…I’m not sure I’m strong enough right now.At this exact moment in time. A lot has happened.”

“Steve Rogers is the strongest man I’ve ever known,” she says, confident enough that he almost believes it.

“Thank you. You have no idea how often I’ve thought of you over the years. You had a huge impact on my life. Every time I wanted to give up or doubted myself you helped me. You’re the reason I got him back the first time.”

Her smile is enough to make his breath catch. What he wouldn’t have given to be the guy that could have her. It would have been so much easier. “I don’t understand. If he’s alive where is he? My department could use a man with his skills.”

“Oh. It’s not that easy, he’s….” And, just like that he has a purpose.Something to do. “You know, I’d be happy to find him for you. You give me a plane, a uniform and a shield and I’ll get him right now,” he says, and the relief he feels is overwhelming. He’s going to save Bucky. And he’s going to fight some Hydra bastards. _Finally._

 

***

 

Well, there it is, Steve thinks, surveying the carnage around him, if anyone wants to properly motivate him they just need to say ‘Bucky Barnes’ and he will move heaven and earth to get the job done. Drop into enemy territory alone on a one man mission? Check. Storm a remote Hydra base and kill a whole bunch of bad guys? Check.

It’s going so well that he’s waiting for it all to go to Hell. He finds the cryo-tube where they’ve got Bucky stored. He’s got the mask on, the metal arm, but his hair is shorter, so close to how it was when he fell off that train that Steve might be sick. He shakes the scientist he’s left alive and points at Bucky. “Get him out.”

“But, he’s a killer. He’s a weapon. He’s in stasis because he’s unstable. No one in their right mind would want him out,” the man says, in a thick German accent.

“Get him out of there. _Now_ ,” he says, and he lets the scientist go, actually trains a gun on his back to make sure he knows this is life or death. He’s not the Captain America who leaves bad guys alive today. There is nothing merciful in him after Thanos.

White fog fills the tube and Steve cocks the gun warningly. A warning alarm sounds and the glass parts revealing Bucky. He’s still. So fucking still. “Now what?” he demands, voice shaking.

“Now he is taken to be wiped and programmed.”

“We’re not doing that.” A thought occurs to him. “Can it be undone? Can you give him his memories back?”

The scientist looks at him like he’s crazy. “He is a super soldier. His brain is always trying to heal itself. He is only manageable now because we take everything away and overlay it with our own commands. As those paths get deeper inside him we won’t have to unmake him so much every time, but right now, there is no one you can reason with. That is not a person. You put the world in danger by freeing him.”

“You’re Hydra. Don’t expect me to believe you’re worried about anyone.”

“It should tell you how scary he is,” the scientist says, and if it raises any doubts in Steve, he’s quick to shut it down. This is the love of his life.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the Bucky move, turn his head towards their voices. Steve goes closer, forgetting about the scientist completely as he meets Bucky’s blue eyes. “Hey, Buck. It’s me. It’s Steve. Do you know who I am?” he asks, and he’s blinking back tears. Bucky is so pale, so familiar and yet not. All the things they’ve done to him are so much closer here.

Bucky doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even blink. Steve reaches for the face mask, takes it off of him and drops it to the ground. Steve pulls off his own glove, puts fingers lightly on Bucky’s cheek, touching him because he has to. Bucky’s head inclines, cheek pressing into his fingers.

“It’s me. It’s Steve,” he says, again. “You’re okay, pal.”

“Steve,” Bucky says, carefully. And Steve undoes the straps that keep Bucky locked in place, frees him.

“We have to go. You’re going to be okay now,” he says, and he steps back once Bucky is free, giving him space to come out of the tube. He looks for the scientist, and the man is gone. They need to move, now. Bucky steps out of the cryo tube, body held unnaturally stiff. Steve gestures, tells him they need to go.

Bucky is looking at the bodies on the ground and then back at Steve, evaluating his ruthlessness. He nods and follows and soon they’re out of the base, standing in the snow and the jet is there in front of them.

Bucky pauses, looks at the jet and then at Steve, robotic and calculated. “We have to go. You’re safe now. You’re free, Bucky. You can go home.”

“Homecoming,” Bucky says, quietly.

“Almost,” Steve says, and smiles because the word is close enough and of course it’s going to be tricky to get all his words precisely right at first. Bucky follows him to the jet and stops at the entrance, looking inside the plane and then back out at the base.

“How many?” Bucky asks, looking at the jet.

“Just us. It’s okay. No one else but us.”

“One,” Bucky says, and it’s the first hint Steve has that this isn’t going as well as he thinks it is. He remembers the words Bucky’d had as his programming. Homecoming. One. Perhaps tying Bucky up for the flight back isn’t the worst idea. He’d promised Peggy and Howard he would.

“Come here,” Bucky orders, and Steve takes a single step forward then stops. Now is definitely not the time to think about just how fucking hot and cruel the Winter Soldier is. This is a Bucky who would treat him like prey.

“Comply,” Bucky says, watching Steve with unblinking eyes.

“We have to go. Escape.”

Bucky gives him a narrow gaze as if he’s trying to work out what that word means. He nods and Steve goes to the cockpit, gets the plane in the air and puts it on automatic pilot then comes back. Bucky isn’t where Steve left him. “Shit,” he swears, uneasy as he realizes the man is undoubtedly going to be in the weapons room. He takes off his half-mask and shield, removes his gloves and weapon belt, wanting to be as familiar as possible to Bucky.

Bucky is standing in the middle of the weapons room. He has a gun in his hand and Steve can see at least three knives glinting off him. Fan-fucking-tastic. But he isn’t moving to hurt Steve. He’s just standing there, waiting.

“Bucky, it’s me. I’m your best friend, I’m…more than that, you know me.” Bucky’s head tilts in question. “I’m Steve. Steven Grant Rogers. You’re James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. I love you. You love me. We were on a train, fighting and you fell. Do you remember?”

“Freight car.”

“Um, maybe.” He’d suspected at least some of Bucky’s trigger words had specific relevance to him. Bucky came towards him, gun still at his side, metal hand free. He stopped three feet away.

“Come here,” he ordered, again.

“Why?” Steve asked, licking his lips nervously. Bucky looked him up and down, lingered on his lips and his neck, even at his crotch. He shifted on his feet, fairly sure Bucky could see that Steve was hard.

Bucky switched the gun to his other hand, looked down like that wasn’t what he wanted either, and then connected it to a strap on his side. Both of his hands now free. The metal one clenched and unclenched. The flesh hand went to his face, touched his cheek where Steve had touched him. He took his hand away, looked at it, opened and closed it, brushed fingers across his stomach lightly as he stared at Steve. Then his hand went down, cupped himself through the fabric of his pants.

Hard. Bucky was hard, too.

He loved the fact that Bucky took one look at Steve and wanted him, was hard for him even when he barely remembered him. This was how Steve felt, too. Any time, any place, this man was his.

“Come here,” he repeated and Steve went. He went gratefully, recklessly, dropped down to his knees so fast the echo of it surrounded them. His mouth was salivating and he was reaching for Bucky’s zipper without needing to be told to. He pulled Bucky’s cock out and sucked him in deep, moaning at how good it was, how much he needed to be here. Bucky’s flesh hand went to Steve’s neck, circled under his chin like he was about to choke the life out of him.

Steve whimpered, pressed closer, practically daring him to squeeze. Then the metal hand was on the back of his neck, cold and merciless, the duel grip making it unbearably easy for him to snap Steve’s neck.

Stupid, this was so stupid. This was the Winter Soldier, not Bucky. This was the man who’d almost killed him on the helicarrier.

And yet, he couldfeel himself leaking, wanted desperately to get a hand on himself. The metal hand tightened, brought Steve forward so Bucky’s cock went deeper into his mouth, and Steve swallowed quickly, trying to relax his throat as Bucky’s cock sank fully home.

He tried to breathe and couldn’t, suddenly panicked at the unexpected roughness and the brutal threat of the hands on his neck. Bucky was silent. Unmoving.His cock lodged deep in Steve’s fluttering throat. He tried to beg him with his eyes, tried to make a sound, lifted his hands to shove away and the grip on his neck tightened, the tiniest shake of the soldier’s head.

 _Protest and I’ll kill you._ He didn’t have toput it in words. Steve knew it. He coughed and tears fell from his eyes, he blinked rapidly, unable to breathe, the world going dark.

Hands moved him back, just enough to breathe, cock sinking back in before he was ready and Steve put hands on the soldier’s hard thighs, begging for more air. For a break. The hand rubbed at his throat, the tiniest hint of gentleness and the panic lessened, he was on the verge of coming and he was suddenly determined to make this as good as he could for him.

He wouldn’t fight him, he’d trust the solider wouldn’t harm him more than he could bear. Steve swallowed, felt Bucky’s hips twitch in response, felt come sliding down his throat as Bucky’s cock spasmed and he came. Bucky’s hands relaxed minutely and Steve took the moment to break his hold, falling backwards on his ass and coughing so hard he retched.

He didn’t think he could talk. He forced himself to his knees and then to his feet. Bucky was tucking his cock away in his pants like it was nothing. He picked up his gun and pointed it at Steve, careful calculations. He shot him in the shoulder and then the thigh, well away from his femoral artery but bringing him to his knees. The fist came out of nowhere.

When Steve awoke the plane was landed. Everything was quiet. The hatch was open and he knew Bucky was long gone. Blood was pooled under him and his jaw ached. Two teeth were loose. And to add insult to injury he had dried come at the corner of his mouth. He needed to move. Had to get up. The sound of a jeep coming close got him to his feet even though he was in pain.

“Captain Rogers?” A man asked, then two army men appeared in the doorway. “Oh good, you’re safe. Agent Carter sent us to find you when the plane landed. Any idea what’s wrong with it?”

“He’s a fucking psychopath, that’s what.”

The shorter man looked confused. “Sir? Are we talking about the plane?”

“No. I have no idea what’s wrong with the plane. In fact, I don’t think anything is wrong with it. I need to get patched up fast. My…Sargeant is getting away,”he said, literally having no idea how to finish that sentence.

 

***

 

There was no trace of Barnes for three weeks. Three god damned weeks. Peggy kept giving him looks like she knew quite how pathetic he was. She had no idea. He’d torn that state apart trying to find Bucky, finally giving up and going back to Brooklyn where he paid a ridiculous sum of money to get their old apartment back.

It really was a hovel.

But if Bucky came back to it, he wanted to be there. Peggy didn’t even try to tell him to go back to the future, smart enough to realize it wasn’t happening until Bucky was brought in and helped.

He kept having to remind himself that time was moving differently here. That it was okay to be waiting, no one was missing him back home yet. He barely slept and when he did he dreamed of the Winter Soldier. He’d wake up with his shorts soaked in come or his hand around his cock about to come and he hated himself for it. God, he hadn’t felt that good in years.

For the next few days after their encounter he’d felt like a new man. Calm, centered and so fucking horny. Even with his wounds he was jerking off several times a day. It was like his body had come back to life and was making up for years of grief.

The fact that he’d been afraid for his life wasn’t something he liked to focus on because it had made it even more arousing. There’d been no getting away. He was going to be on his knees choking on Bucky’s cock until Bucky was done with him. Untilhe’d completed his mission. Now it had been weeks and he needed the soldier again like he was some sort of addict who’s supply had been cut off. Every thought revolved around him. Truly, he had a screw loose.

 

***

 

Two days later, Steve woke up absolutely certain he wasn’t alone in his bedroom. He’d been sleeping on his stomach, head facing the wrong fucking direction. He lifted his head to move and heard the safety click off a gun. He put his head back down.

“Bucky?” he asked, and there was no response. The bed dipped as his intruder put a knee onto mattress, moving closer to him. Steve didn’t move, felt the warning press of the gun in the middle of his spine and then thighs were between his, forcing his legs open. Cool metal rested on his lower back, fingers sliding under the waistband of his boxer briefs. A question.

“Longing,” the soldier said, into the darkness.

“I’m yours,” Steve offered and his underwear was torn off of him in one vicious tug. Steve buried his head in the pillow, biting down so he didn’t beg. His hips tilted, just a little, offering his ass.

He could hear the soldier breathing, then the rustling of his clothes. A small packet opening and he knew, he just knew the soldier had lubricant. The soldier had come here for Steve. Because he longed for him, too. What did it say about his mental state that it was enough to make him want to cry?

A wet, flesh hand was on his cheeks, spreading him open and the soldier was there, hard cock at Steve’s entrance. The soldier pressed forward, unrelenting, forcing Steve open. His mouth opened on a cry, at the burning pain of it. Bucky had never done this to him. Always refused to take him with no prep at all, no matter how often he’d begged. He could take it. He’d wanted to.

Now the soldier was making him. It was horrible, this massive cock reaming him open. Steve’s legs tried to shift restlessly against the sheets and the limited space, his body protesting and shaking as his ass was opened. The soldier was in him now and Steve was whimpering at how much it hurt, felt his ass squeezing down, desperately wanting the soldier out. The soldier stayed still, picked up his gun, put it somewhere else and then lay on top of Steve completely. He pulled out, fucked back in, the burn so sharp and horrible that Steve’s hands fisted in the sheets, tearing them as he tried tomove forward, wanting to escape.

“I can’t. I can’t,” he managed, and hands found his, fingers threading through his. The soldier didn’t kiss him, didn’t say anything but Steve felt his nose lightly brush the back of Steve’s neck and it was enough.

“I love you,” Steve managed, and Bucky dragged their hands underneath Steve’s body, holding Steve like he was a giant pillow. He was heavy, oppressive and for a wild second hethought he was going to come despite the pain in his ass.

Bucky drew out and fucked back in and Steve shook and shuddered as Bucky found his rhythm. His cock wilted from the agony of it all and then the soldier spread his thighsa little wider, forcing Steve open even more and suddenly his cock was rubbing against Steve’s prostate and he felt himself oozing come with every strike as the soldier rode him relentlessly.

“Longing,” he said, again, softly, just next to Steve’s ear, and the soldier’s tongue swiped up his tears, his cock working faster, harder and then he was coming deep inside Steve, groaning into the side of his neck.

One hand slipped down to Steve’s soft, dripping cock and began to stroke him roughly, the angle awkward as hell. “No, I can’t, I can’t, please,” Steve said, and the soldier covered Steve’s mouth with his metal hand, shutting him up but also blocking off most of his air and his ability to move.

He’d have bruises on his face tomorrow. Inexplicably, his cock hardened, the less air he had the more his cock ached to come.He tried to shake his head, to let the soldier know he didn’t have enough air but the soldier didn’t respond, stroked him rougher, too much and Steve was coming, so hard the world went white and he lost track of time. His cock hurt, his ass throbbed and burned and still the soldier was stroking him, demanding he come again.

He tried to say no, grunted but there was nothing he could do but take it. Give up, some part of him commanded, in Bucky’s voice and he came again, muscles taut and straining. His ass milked the cock in his passage and he realized in despair that the soldier was starting up again, fucking in and out of him in a lazier way. It still hurt, god it hurt, but at least the way was slicker now, Bucky’s come flooded deep inside of his channel.

The hand moved away from his mouth and he gasped for air, long heaving breaths that were cut off when the cock in his ass slammed home, pain flooding his senses and robbing him of everything. The soldier came again and then ground into him, ignoring Steve’s whimper of protest.

The hand stroked him, his traitorous cock hard and Steve gathered his strength and shoved his own hand under him, cupping it over Bucky’s, digging his fingers into him. “No more. I can’t.”

“One,” the soldier ordered, and he began to stroke.

“Fuck you and your god damned one,” he said, even as his hand relaxed and Bucky drove him past the point of complaint. It was going to fucking hurt when he came this time. He was so overstimulated and sore. The orgasm was there, trembling like shards of glass around him, and then he was coming, crying with it. The soldier licked his cheeks gently and moaned, finally moaned, so reminiscent of Bucky that Steve turned his head, caught the edge of Bucky’s jaw and kissed it.

The soldier shifted behind him, pulled back so he was on his knees, dragging Steve’s hips with him. The soldier fucked him again, and Steve stopped protesting, stopped crying, just floated away, somehow there but not there. Pleasure and pain were the same thing, consuming him, redefining him and turning him into something new.

Horrible, broken sounds were coming from him. Someone was saying thank you, begging for more. To stay. The soldier came deep inside him again, come dripping down Steve’s thighs. He pulled out, and Steve could feel his hole gaping. The soldier put a metal finger into him, pushing his come back inside and then he was forcing Steve to come again.

He’d never felt so used, so fragile and perfect.

He felt the soldier get up, felt his lips next to Steve’s ear. “Yours. Mine. You…welcome,” he said, and Steve realized it had been him begging for more, saying thank you, wanting the soldier to stay.

And then the soldier was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a hard time with the beginning of this chapter because I just don't believe Steve would make the decision to go back with Peggy. I hope this works bc it was as believable to me as I could make it. And I jumped forward timewise as I figured their past could be discussed more in future chapters. Hope y'all don't feel short changed.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Steve got up and he wasn’t sure how he felt. Well, that wasn’t true. He felt fucking amazing. He was sore, unbelievably sore. His ass ached and when he sat up he actually winced. And all he could think was that he must have been wanted, rather desperately, to have been used that hard. Bucky had _needed_ him and he had given him everything he could, and still managed to want more at the end of the night. He lay back down and even though he was filthy (like unspeakably unpleasant, ugh) he couldn’t help but imagine what might have been if the soldier had stayed with him, had woken up this morning and ground up behind him and told Steve to ride him. He put two fingers inside himself and then stopped, just left them there for a long moment. His cock was hard and he palmed himself deciding he’d take care of it in the shower.

When he got out of the shower and had breakfast he felt invigorated. So invigorated he decided to go for a run. He was halfway through when he realized there was someone behind him. He picked up speed and veered off into a wooden path, darting to the side and ducking down at the right moment, then waited until the person passed him. It was, of course, Bucky, carrying on as though he still thought Steve was in front of him. Maybe he did?

He stepped out and went after him for a few yards then couldn’t resist. He hoped Bucky would recognize his name. “Buck,” he called and the man stopped. Turned to look at him. He wasn’t dressed in leather which was both a shame and practical. Perhaps it meant his memory was returning?

“You following me?” he asked, stopping in front of him. He blushed, oh heaven help him did he blush. And Bucky’s lips were relaxed, so full and he hadn’t shaved. He wanted throw himself into his arms and kiss him.

“They’re looking for me,” Bucky said, the words having almost no inflection. “I was…worried they would be coming for you, too.”

“Hydra?” Steve asked, and out of habit looked around them like he might see someone with an octopus pin walking towards them.

He nodded.

“Your words are better this morning. You seem more…you.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s easier when I’m not in the middle of sex. Last night was a regression. I only came to you because I thought I was…normal enough,” he said, and Steve put a hand on his arm.

“You can always come to me. I promise I will never judge you or think you’re not ‘you’ enough.

Bucky scanned the area around them. “Did I…hurt you?” Bucky asked, looking hard into Steve’s eyes.

He blushed again. “Only in a good way. I could feel it this morning. But it was everything I wanted. And I heal so fast I can’t hardly tell anymore.”

“Missed you this morning,” he said, and the way he was looking at Steve said plainly he missed Steve’s body.

“Do you remember at all? In the mornings, when we were in the war, if there was time, I always took care of you in the morning,” he said, pretty sure he’d just offered to give Bucky a blowjob. He was okay with that assumption.

“I dream a lot. And I’ve been trying to keep a journal of things that come to me. You in dog tags. You,” he swallowed, “on your knees. I have seen that.”

“Come home with me. If they’re looking for you, stay with me. That way we can protect each other.”

Bucky nodded, and they headed back to Steve’s. “Do you remember this neighborhood?” Steve asked, when they got close.

“My ma lived…somewhere,” he said, head looking to the right. It was that direction so Steve thought that was a start.

“What else do you remember,” Steve asked.

He was silent for a solid five minutes. Steve became more unsettled as the time went on. “Zola. Putting the arm on me. Pain…you. You smaller. Then bigger. An alley and you—“ He stopped, grabbed Steve’s hand and forced him to look at him. “Steve, why do you let me hurt you?” he asks, “Our relationship isn’t like others, I don’t think.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” he says, and they make it to Steve’s place before he has a good answer. “I don’t know. It’s what we liked. Me more than you, I guess.” And the reminder of his Bucky back home, their fractured relationship makes him feel shitty. This is cheating, isn’t it? Even though Bucky doesn’t want him like he used to? Even though they hadn’t done much of anything since…well, for over 70 years. Even though it’s the same person?

“I like it,” Bucky says, head tilted to peer at Steve. The metal hand lifts towards him, Bucky frowns, drops it and raises the other one, touching Steve’s face.

“I like it, too,” Steve says, pressing his forehead to Bucky’s, grateful to not feel horrible for what he wants. He pushes away, goes to the kitchen and gets them both a glass of orange juice and then some water. “I need to tell you something. The Steve Rogers that belongs in this timeline is still in the ice. I’m actually from somewhere else. Time travel is real. In every reality, you are my world. I knew where you were because we went there. In my reality, you were the Winter Soldier for along time. A really long time. You’re different. And I went through a lot too. And we went through a lot together which has not helped our relationship. I think my changes are the biggest problem.”

“How did it change you?” Bucky asks, patient as a sphinx. All of this must be a surprise but he definitely seems unfazed.

“Well, this, actually. The way we are in the bedroom. I always wanted it rougher than you were really comfortable with. But now, after the things I’ve done and seen. I just want to be…owned. I want more. And you want…less. I came here to get some advice from Peggy and wound up rescuing you.”

“Peggy.She is,” he’s thinking, brows furrowed, trying to remember. “Will you marry her?” he asks, and his hand goes to his chest, rubbing unconsciously near his heart like it’s hurting at the very idea.

“No. I think we thought I would after the war. Or hoped anyway. If it had to be someone, we liked her.”

“I don’t want you to marry her. I don’t believe I ever did,” he says. His voice is low, dangerous. Bucky finishes the glass of water and Steve does the same, the tension thick. He’s watching Steve’s throat as he swallows. Steve puts down his glass and stands there, feeling nervous. Bucky is looking at Steve like he’s a work of art as if it’s physically painful to be standing there looking instead of touching. Steve feels exactly the same way.

“Let me?” Bucky asks him, softly.

He should ask what it is Bucky wants to do to him. But, he doesn’t care, the answer is yes. Even if this version of Bucky is harder, darker, more removed from the Bucky he knows and is therefore unpredictable, and more likely to hurt Steve, the answer is the same. 

“Always,” he says, instead and Bucky tugs him closer by his shirt so Steve is between his legs. He slides his flesh hand around Steve’s waist, up and down his side a few times until Steve shivers and then drops his hand down between Steve’s cheeks, grabbing him lightly, fingers brushing his hole through his clothing. Steve drags in a breath.

“Let me?” he asks.

Steve nods. “Always.”

“You my…sweetheart?” he asks, and it’s not as smooth or as cocky as it was but it brings tears to his eyes anyway because yes, yes he is Bucky’s sweetheart. He loves that this is dredged up from Bucky’s mind, that no matter how much is taken away, this part comes back to him.

“Always,” he says, but it’s a whisper as he’s feeling pretty emotional about the whole thing. He leans in, kisses Bucky on the lips. Bucky goes stiff at the move, like he’s resisting his first instinct to pull away or hit Steve for getting close.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks. “Let me?”

Bucky gives him a little smile, so quick he wonders if he imagines it. And then they’re kissing and Steve is wrapping his arms around Bucky, pulling him close, groaning in relief at finding Bucky hard for him.

Bucky pulls back, tugs Steve along and heads for the shower. The shower is this ridiculous concoction Steve created because showers in this time period were basically non-existent and no one understood the value of water pressure like they should.

They strip off each other’s clothes and get into the shower and Bucky is reaching for Steve almost instantly, grazing a finger between Steve’s cheeks and over his hole. “Love this,” he says. “The way you sound. The way you…break for it.”

Steve shivers, ass clenching on nothing. Bucky makes a sound when he feels the tension against his finger. “Sore?” Bucky asks, and Steve kisses him on the lips.

“Yes.” He’s hoping Bucky is going to ask if he can take him anyway, better yet to _insist_ that he needs Steve, that Steve can take him. He’d always loved that. Him protesting and Bucky coercing him was something he’d always got off on.

Bucky takes Steve’s hand, puts it on his hard cock. Steve grips him, strokes him slowly, kissing him on the lips with a hint of tongue. “So good, Stevie.” He smiles at the way Bucky says his name. “I want you here,” he says, and his hand is back between Steve’s cheeks, a knuckle pressing against his hole. “So soft and tight. Hot.”

“Yeah?”

Bucky nods against his lips, tongue swiping across Steve’s bottom lip. “Love being inside you.”

“Good. Have me then.”

Bucky presses against his hole some more and watches as Steve’s hard cock twitches against his stomach. “Need to see it first. Make sure my baby doll is okay.”

“You always called me baby doll,” Steve says.

“Sweetheart. Beautiful.”

“Yes.”

“Pretty girl? Sweet girl?” he asks, saying it slowly like those are the ones he’s less certain of. 

“No,” Steve says, and there is something happening in his chest, a clenching, a type of fear or anxiety. “You never said that to me. To women, maybe,” he says, and Bucky stills, perplexed, thinking, trying to remember.

“But there was only you,” Bucky says, confidently. “You are the love of my life. My sweetheart. My babydoll.”

“Yes.”

“I must have. Lovely girl? Because of this?” he asks, and a finger slides into him. “It’s in my head. Why?”

Steve drops his head to his shoulder, shakes his head no. He’s blushing, is embarrassed at the idea. Of course, ‘baby doll’ and ‘beautiful’ aren’t all that far away from ‘pretty girl’ and hearing Bucky say it does something to him deep inside. A weird mix of shame and lust that he’s terrified of owning up to. He just doesn’t know where it would go. He’s given Bucky everything and yet Bucky is searching for more. It terrifies him. It’s like looking at a cliff and wanting to jump off. This rejection is self-preservation. And yet, Steve is the first one to jump given half a chance.

“My pussycat?” Bucky asks, brushing a hand through Steve’s hair and tilting his face so he can look at him. Steve’s breathing fast and Bucky sees it. His cheeks are flushed and his cock is hard and brushing against Bucky’s thigh. Did he feel it pulse when he called Steve pussycat? Did he feel the clench of Steve’s ass when he called him a pretty girl?

He’s biting his lip and so he stops, knows it’s something Bucky has seen enough times and that it’s some kind of tell. “Pussycat,” Bucky tries again as if this is an interrogation and he’s found a weak spot.

It’s too mortifying and so he says nothing.

Bucky turns off the water, steps out, gets a towel and wraps it around Steve, then dries him off slowly. He gets down on his knees, sucks Steve’s cock until he’s about to come. He pulls off and Steve groans in desperation. His balls are full and heavy already, beginning to ache from the need to come. Bucky dries himself briskly and leads him by the hand to the bedroom.

He pushes Steve down onto the bed and crawls over him. His brow is furrowed, he licks his lips. He has the sense that Bucky is thinking, shuffling through memories or ideas to take Steve apart. “You heal so fast. Show me what’s left of last night,” Bucky says, and Steve starts to turn over. “No,” Bucky says, and he shoves a pillow under Steve. “Open those pretty legs for me, sweetheart. Show me how pink you are down there,” he says, observing Steve closely.

Steve’s legs open automatically, needing to give Bucky what he asks for. “Beautiful. Show me your pussy.”

Steve is mortified. “You _never_ said that to me. You shouldn’t start now,” he says, summoning up some anger. Hmm, Bucky says, just a sound coming from his chest, still watching Steve.

“Wanted to. I’m sure of it. Sounds right.”

“Well, it’s not.”

A smirk as Bucky touches his cock and balls, petting him gently. He rubs a finger over the head, his finger slippery as Steve drips pre-come onto his stomach. Does Bucky remember just how wet he’d get when Steve was really turned on? “But, I want it.” Steve closes his eyes against him. Because how does he say no to that when he’d do anything to please Bucky?

“It’s embarrassing,” he says, which is a pretty poor explanation.

Bucky squints at him. “I know. You like that. And I love how annoyed you’re getting. Feel how hard it’s making me? You keep up all this protesting and I won’t be responsible for my actions.” He brings a hand to Steve’s chest, plays with his nipple. “Look at these tits.”

“No, I don’t like it,” Steve says, even as he’s arching into the touch. He can’t come from this, he just can’t. The jerk would never let him live it down. Bucky makes a sound of disagreement and shoves Steve’s legs open, bends down and kisses his hole lightly.

“A little red.” His smile is evil. “You were good to me, weren’t you babydoll?” he asks, but it’s not really a question.

“I hope so. I like to be.”

“Good,” he kisses again, licks and strokes the puffy rim with his tongue. Steve is panting and writhing almost instantly. It’s too much, and when he puts his cock in Steve it’s going to be almost unbearable. “Beautiful, thrashing around because my tongue is between your legs. You’re so responsive. You make me crazy,” he says, in-between kissing and sucking at him.

Steve agrees with a little sound.

Bucky tongues him until the muscle relaxes, starts rubbing a finger against his rim and slipping it into the first knuckle. “I want to be in you, babydoll.”

“Yes, yeah, I want that,” Steve says, thinking he might die soon if Bucky doesn’t get his big, hard cock into him.

“Tell me you need me in your pussy and I’ll make you come so hard. I promise.”

Steve’s cock twitches hard, his balls draw up tight just from the words, the demand, the fact that he isn’t happy about this but Bucky is insisting, relentlessly calling him feminine things but coded just neutral enough that Steve’s letting it slide. He’s losing this battle, every sentence an assault with Steve having to retreat and he both loves and hates it. Cause all he’s ever wanted was for Bucky to take him down. But he hadn’t expected it to be like this. “No. No, Bucky.”

“Alright. Okay, sweetheart,” he says, sweet and generous. As if he really is contrite. He moves up Steve’s body, kisses his neck. “But, I need to be in your pussy now, sweetheart is that alright?” Steve is going to protest. “Need you, Stevie. You’ve gotta take care of this, don’t you? You’re the one who got me hard. I wanna put it in you so you can feel it.”

Steve moans and presses his hips up, encouraging, incapable of resisting when Bucky needs him. “You’re an evil fucking bastard.”

A pause in the kisses, the slightest tremble of Bucky’s body above him. He knows Bucky’s laughing and trying to hide it. Proof that he is, in fact, an evil bastard. “Do you have slick?”

Steve points to the bedside table. Bucky gets it, coats his cock, puts a little on Steve’s hole and just inside his rim. “Do you want to ride me?”

“I…no. I want you to fuck me.” He wants to feel Bucky weighing him down, claiming him. He wants to be pressed close and feel his back as it flexes, wants Bucky to adjust him so he can get off exactly how he wants.

“Open you more?” he asks, rubbing his nose against Steve’s cheek and then sucking on his earlobe. “Be gentle with my sweet babydoll.”

Steve looks away, embarrassed. Because no, gentleness isn’t what he wants. At all.

“I’m thinking I hurt you bad, last night, sweetheart,”Bucky says, and he’s touching Steve’s cock softly. Like an apology.

“No, you didn’t,” he says, and Bucky kisses him gently on the eyelids, hand still unbearably gentle.

“Don’t want you to dread me touching you. Make you so sore all you’re thinking about is how much my loving you will hurt.”

What he wants to say is, ‘hang on a damned minute, you know I want that more than anything, right?’ The next time Bucky leaves him and he’s jerking off to the idea of him, that’s where his fantasies are going to start. But that’s just like jumping over that cliff. A strange twist on his own worst tendencies to get himself hurt and risk his life, the darker things he likes. “You couldn’t make me feel like that,” is what he settles for, thighs sliding up Bucky’s hips, encouraging him to take him.

“You just felt so good. The sounds you made for me,” Bucky murmurs, cock grinding against his hole, close to what he wants but a million miles away.

“I had to. You were so big,” he says, arching into it. “Needed you too. I always will. No one takes care of me like you.” His cock gets friction on Bucky’s stomach and he’s tempted to rut against him until he comes.

“You know you’re all I think about. Being with you and in you. There’s all this empty space and it’s you that belongs there, isn’t it? They took you from me.”

Steve holds him hard. He wants to promise him that he will never let him go but what about his Bucky? He doesn’t know if he can make that promise.

Bucky blinks, like he’s coming back to himself, gaze sharper than it had been, hips relaxing a little. “Will you tell me if I go too far? You won’t really let me hurt you, will you?

“I might say ‘no’ but I mean ‘yes’,” he says and feels Bucky withdrawing further, wanting some kind of line.“How about, if I ever say freight car then you stop whatever you’re doing?”

“Clever, clever…babydoll,”Bucky says, and Steve had been almost positive Bucky was going to call him a pretty girl and force the answer. See if he got a freight car out of Steve.

“I need you,” Steve says, feeling the small puddle of his own pre-come rubbing between them, his body feeling empty, pained and denied.

“Good,” he says, and he notches the head against Steve’s rim, presses and Steve’s body opens slowly as his cock slides in. Steve’s eyes close, he bites his lip against the pain. “Look at me,” Bucky demands and the beauty of him hits him viscerally. Is there anyone in the entire goddamn universe more beautiful than Bucky Barnes? Bucky is staring too, absorbing all of Steve’s expressions as he hurts him like it’s the most erotic thing he’s ever seen.

“I love you. No girl could ever take me like you do. Your legs are shaking and I can feel how it affects you. But you’re going to take me in one, aren’t you, angel?Because you’re my best girl and that’s how much you love me.”

He wants to think he’s not responding because he’s overwhelmed with the intensity of it all, the combined emotional and physical onslaught, Bucky’s cock still coring into him, unrelenting and demanding.If it wasn’t for _that_ he’d complain.

Even though he’d spent a hell of a long time feeling white-hot jealousy over Bucky calling some woman his best girl. Of course, he would. He’s not going to let him call Steve his best girl, as god only knows where it would lead them.

And then Bucky is in to the root and he adjusts the weight on his arms, body shifting the barest amount, but his cock is so big inside of Steve, there just isn’t room, he knows he’s too tight, and he is still a little sore from yesterday and he whimpers at the wash of agony. Bucky does it again, makes a pleased sound deep in his throat and kisses Steve lightly. This is what Bucky loves, Steve realizes. To hurt him and comfort him at the same time. It’s everything. It’s perfect. “I love you,” he says, letting his mouth be open so Bucky can thrust his tongue in and fuck his mouth, too.

Bucky is trembling, shifting restlessly when he pulls back. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“Good. Me either.”

“I want you to come for me, Stevie. Over and over again. I don’t think I’m going to let you out of this bed today,” he says, voice hoarse with lust. “But, I’m only going to touch your pussy if you ask me nicely.”

No. He can’t mean that. He can’t. “I’m not going to do that,” he vows.

Bucky smiles, slow and smug and Steve wants to hit him and get fucked so hard by him that he can’t walk tomorrow. “That’s your choice, my love. I like to treat a girl right when she’s on my cock but let’s be honest here, if this is all about me getting mine, I’m okay with that.”

Steve kisses him hard, bites him on the lip, absolutely beside himself with lust and annoyance. And Bucky pulls halfway out and slams back home, pounding into him, riding Steve hard, shutting him up and Steve is almost instantly losing himself to the sensation, needing to come more than he’s ever needed anything in his life.

Bucky comes, doesn’t make any effort to hold off, kisses Steve messily as he catches his breath, absently playing with Steve’s breast and nipple while he draws out the last little moments of pleasure by pushing into Steve’s body. Steve is coiled tight, so fucking close to coming, to asking for it when Bucky stills, gives them both a moment. “That was so good. Thank you, sweetheart.”

He pulls out of Steve’s body, shifts down and takes a look at Steve’s hole then gives Steve a look full of plans and machinations. “Let me get you something to drink, sweetheart,” he says, and he doesn’t even look at Steve’s dripping cock, hard and dark with arousal. Because this isn’t about him, he didn’t ask like a fucking good girl and so now he isn’t going to get his. He grips the base of his cock hard, the reality of it all so awful he almost comes.

Bucky comes back into the room and Steve has his eyes closed. He’s on his side, breathing in and out. The trembling has stopped, the desperate need to come has receded but now he just aches. It’s times like this that he hates the serum that’s given him superior stamina and healing abilities. It means he gets hard and frustrated fast, feels backed up with seed like his body is producing it at four times the rate. Not coming has never been a good time, but for him now, it’s a lot worse.

He feels Bucky sit down beside him and he turns, rolling towards him, placing his head on his thigh. Bucky strokes a hand through his hair, gives him a few minutes and then strokes his back too. “Want you to drink something.” 

Steve sits up a little and Bucky presses the glass to his mouth, watches as Steve drinks it down. Between the water and the orange juice, he’s going to have to pee soon. Which will at least resolve this lack of orgasm situation, he thinks happily. “Why are you smiling?” Bucky asks.

“No reason,” Steve says, and now he’s a little smug.

“I like it when you smile. Stroke me, sweetheart,” Bucky orders and Steve wraps a hand around him, doing as he’s told. “Slick too,” he orders and Steve slicks Bucky up although he’s pretty sure he’s wet enough back there, can feel Bucky’s come trickling out of him.

He’s eager for Bucky to fuck him again, knows with complete certainty that it won’t take much of Bucky’s skin rubbing against him before he comes between them. Bucky moves over him, kisses him, keeping his weight off Steve. Then he lays down on Steve’s opposite side, flat on his back, puts a hand around his cock and strokes it lightly.

“Come on, sweetheart. Up you go.”

“What?” he growls, through gritted teeth. Bucky gestures to his cock. Like he’s a fucking sultan or something waiting for his harem girl to do her job. Steve bites back some swear words and gets up onto his knees, throws a thigh over Bucky and feels Bucky’s hand and the head of his cock seeking out his hole. When he’s lodged at the entrance of Steve’s body, his hand shifts down, to the base of his cock, like he’s worried Steve is going to move and lose the placement.

“Have a seat, darling.”

He feels himself blushing, his hand goes unconsciously to his cock but Bucky intercepts his hand, laces their fingers together. Steve lowers himself slowly, Bucky’s eyes close and then he opens them and he lets go of his cock and grabs Steve’s breast instead. “Tomorrow I’m going to fuck these tits,” he says. “Jesus, you’re so hot inside.”

“Why tomorrow?” Steve asks, and his mouth opens in a silent o as he seats himself completely. But he already knows the answer, because Bucky wants to mark him up good and proper, really cover him in come and he wants a night to build up again. He lifts and lowers, shifts so Bucky is hitting his prostate and Bucky lets go of his hand, reaches under Steve and fondles Steve’s balls every time he rises. It’s maddening.

“Do you like that?” Bucky asks cheeks flushed with pleasure.

“I don’t think so,” he gasps. If he wasn’t so full he would.

A twitch of his lips. “Your cock says otherwise,” and it’s true, he’s leaking steadily. Even more now that his prostate is getting hit _and_ his balls are being played with. Bucky stops a few minutes later, breath coming faster, gaze fixed on watching his cock go in and out of Steve’s body.

“I’m gonna come, sweetheart. You ready?” he asks, wrapping a hand around Steve.

“Fuck, a little harder and it’ll be all over,” he gasps, back arching. 

“That’s my good girl. So pretty on my cock. Watching myself go in and out of you,” he says, and his hand slides away from Steve’s cock to his thigh. “Want me to touch your pussy?” he asks, and Steve could cry. He really could.

“Touch me. I want to come,” Steve demands, and he reaches for his cock.Bucky stops him, grabs his hands, fucks up hard into Steve’s body, chasing his orgasm, stealing Steve’s breath and then he’s coming, wet pulses in Steve’s body. Steve is stunned, tortured. Bucky came and he hasn’t. Again.

He pushes up to a sitting position, holds Steve close and kisses him sweetly. “It doesn’t have to be this difficult.”

“It’s not. I can do this all day,” he says, with stubborn pride.

“Fuck, I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, and he’s thrusting into Steve again, rolling his hips and Steve gets the lightest, most fleeting touch on the headof his cock with each undulation. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be enough to get him there but he’s so turned on, has been so aroused for so long that he’s panting, hands digging into Bucky’s, willing the orgasm to happen. And it’s close, so fucking close but it’s out of reach. He struggles on, it’s taking Bucky longer because he just came but then Bucky comes again and stills.

Steve whimpers. Bucky grabs his face in his hands, forces eye contact. His voice is rough but determined. “Tell me to touch your pussy and I’ll suck you off,” he says, and he even licks his lips. Steve can practically feel that tongue against him, some phantom touch on his cock.

“I have to pee,” he whispers, instead.

“I’m sure you do,” he says, and Steve raises feels his hand curl into a fist.Bucky picks up his fist, kisses his knuckles.

“It’s just a game, you know. Come if you want to. Say freight car and I’ll suck you off.”

“I want to win,” he grits out.

His smile is villainous. “No, sweetheart, you don’t and we both know it. I’m gonna go piss, gonna get us something to drink and that look on your face,” he trails off, touching a thumb to Steve’s lips, rubbing the plump skin back and forth like he’s thinking about fucking his mouth. “God, what a mouth. Yeah, I’ll fuck you doggy-style this next time.”He reaches between them, hand hovering over Steve’s cock like he’s not quite sure how close to the edge Steve is.

Doggy-style while his bladder is this full. Doggy style means it’s going to be a pounding. His hole is throbbing already and he’s feeling…he doesn’t even know. “Come on, pretty baby. You should come with me,” Bucky says and he gets out of bed, picks Steve up with barely a grunt and stands him on two legs. He leans against him for a moment, and Bucky leads him to the kitchen. He gets them both a glass of water and holds it out for Steve.

He shakes his head no. His eyes are a little glassy as he blinks, everything blurry. Bucky is all sympathy, comes close and kisses him softly, tells him how perfect he is. How lovely. How much he wants him.He feels tears slip down his cheeks. How does he feel so vulnerable and yet safe? He cuddles into him, hissing when his cock touches Bucky’s skin. Bucky makes a warning sound and moves his hips out of the way so Steve has nothing to rub against.

“What happens if I say it?”

“I make you come until you’re dry and spent and then I bundle you up and get you all clean. I’ll put you to bed and hold you while you fall asleep. Just like I would with any good girl. But, you’d be my _best girl_ so I’d want to kiss all your sore bits better too. I’d eat your pussy until you begged me to stop.” Which all sounds amazing and worth losing for. “But, the best part of you being my best _girl_ , my pretty _girl_ ,” he says, hands sliding down to Steve’s ass, parting his cheeks, massaging the globes of his ass and making him just as wound up as he was a few minutes ago.

“The best part is that I get to treat you like you deserve. You’ll sit on my knee and get all dolled up for me, sometimes. Nothing but French silk for my girl. And these tits need some lace,” he murmurs and sucks on Steve's nipple and then the other one. “But, it’s not all sweetness,” he says, and Steve is just waiting. Mind spinning, body confused and aroused. He can’t even really process what all he’s proposing.

“I’m not gonna put up with my best girl misbehaving. If you make me I’ll take you over my knee and get you sorted out again.”

“You’d spank me?”

“Oh sweetheart, it wouldn’t only be a spanking,” he says, faux sadly. “You’re too beautiful, I think if I spanked you it would always end in my good girl getting a fucking.”

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck, feels him press a kiss to Steve’s jaw. “I wouldn’t always want to be your best girl.”

“I know, sweetheart. Just sometimes.”

He does want that. Of course, he does. And then he’d be called Bucky’s best girl and the humiliation of it all would make him so fucking hot and Bucky knows how much it would make him squirm which means it would get him all hot, too. Asking Bucky to touch his pussy is only upside. Except he’d have to give in.

“Look at you,” Bucky says, and he’s wiping a tear away from Steve’s cheek before grazing a finger down Steve’s cock. Steve flinches away from the touch. So fucking hard. Everything is too much now.

“It’s going to hurt, either way, princess.” Bucky grips his own cock, strokes it absently, getting hard just from Steve’s misery.

“Come on, I’ve gotta piss before you make me too hard,” he says, and he makes Steve go with him. Steve stands in the doorway while he goes, hears him and sways on his feet.

“How long will you do this to me?” he asks.

“One of us is going to give in, Stevie. But the deck is stacked against you and you know it. You’re just drawing it out now.”

He shakes his head, stubbornly.

“If I fuck you from behind right here I can see your face in the mirror,”Bucky says, casually. Steve turns to Bucky, buries his face in his chest. “It’s okay. My fragile, babydoll.”

He is. He’s going to cry when Bucky fucks him. He’s going to cry from the moment it starts until the moment it ends. Tears come down his face as soon as he recognizes it. “You’d say if you didn’t want it, wouldn’t you, Stevie?”

He nods. And he would but he needs this more than anything. Needs to cry and be reduced down to nothing. No thoughts for anything else, all of him erased and put at purpose for Bucky’s pleasure even at the expense of himself. He’s going to be open, raw and wrecked for him and Bucky is going to be satisfied. He will not have failed _him_. 

Every other thing he’s fucked up, the people he’s let die through arrogance, simple disregard or just not being strong enough to save them, it’s all in him, tar on his soul, this rabid hole inside of him that’s taking him over because he doesn’t have the will to endure it. He is poison. It’s all inside him.

“I failed everyone. You don’t know.”

“Not me, sweetheart. And right now, I don’t give a shit about anyone else. You have one job right now. Me.”

“Yes,” he breathes, gratefully. This man is it. He’s going to pound into the poisoned ugliness inside Steve and take it all away. Bucky will break it down just like he’s breaking Steve down.“Does it…scare you? Or repulse you? Me. This. What I…need from you?” he asks.

Bucky kisses him on the crown of his head and holds him close. “No. Of course not. You need it. I suppose in some ways it’s not easy because I love you and want you happy. But, I’m strong enough to get you through to the other side, sweetheart. I’ll carry us both if I have too. Come on now, here we go,” he says. “Bed or mirror. How much do you want me to see?”

His lip trembles. It’s hard to say aloud, almost impossible to admit to. But he wants to be seen and he wants to be loved and not just for the good parts of him but the worst parts too. Steve’s had a lot of years with just him and the worst parts of himself for company while the world was dark and filled with ash. With no one to love him and no one who could look at him without blaming him. And if he can’t be seen and heard and loved anyway by this man than he may as well just end it all.

“Mirror,” he says, and Bucky squeezes his arms, reassuringly. “So strong, my love.” He turns Steve and urges him to spread his legs, gets his hands sorted out on the countertop and him leaned over a little bit. They make eye contact in the mirror. “You know I love it too. I don’t want you any other way. Give me everything because I want it. I want you,” Bucky says, andSteve can barely breathe through all that he’s feeling. He spreads Steve’s cheeks and stares at his hole for a long moment while he strokes himself to full hardness. A finger touches his rim, just slips into him and Steve rises onto his tiptoes before settling down.

It’s all too much now. Every touch rubs against him like sandpaper. “You’re open for me now, baby,” he says and he pushes in. “Look at that, fuck, you can’t keep me out now, can you?”

Steve drops his head forward and Bucky puts a hand under his jaw, gently propping him up until he opens his eyes. He can’t see Bucky through his tears so he blinks, catches him in flashes. Bucky is shushing him, thumb sliding along his jaw offering comfort while his massive cock is gliding in and out of him. Steve is shaking so hard, his bladder too full and his cock too hard and everything is just too much. Everything is brightness and pain, lust and fear. His knees give out, the full weight of him in Bucky’s arms.

“I’ve got you, beautiful. I’ve got you. Eyes on me,” he orders sharply, and Steve makes himself look into Bucky’s eyes, pupils dilated in need. He slams home hard and Steve almost passes out. “Look at me,” he demands, and Steve does because that’s all there is now: listening, obeying and trying to stay inside himself when he wants to float away.

His voice is determined, he’s pressing the words into Steve with his grip and his cock and the sheer force of his will.“You give everything, Steven Grant Rogers. Every piece of you. I know you do. I remember. _I know you_ ,” he says and Bucky’s hand wraps around his cock, stroking him just right. He’s coming almost instantly, yelling at the intensity of it, his body spasming so hard that Bucky comes too, cock milked over and over again by Steve’s burning passage. He keeps working Steve through his orgasm and almost instantly Steve is coming again, his balls emptying in relief. Bucky pulls out of him, keeps him upright and eventually moves them to the toilet. He holds Steve’s cock and Steve tries to move away but it’s the most pathetic struggle.

“Let me,” he says, and Steve can hear the love in his voice. He closes his eyes, wills himself to pee and the pleasure of that is horrible too. More vulnerability and private things he’s willing to give him. Bucky gets them both into the shower somehow and time passes oddly, indistinctly and Steve finds himself in bed, the covers over him, Bucky against his back. He turns over, slides a leg over Bucky’s thigh and gets closer to him.

“How’s my sweetheart?” Bucky asks.

“I love you. I’m tired now. And I won.”

“You did win,” he says, chuckling lightly and squeezing Steve tight.

Steve is drifting towards sleep when the revelation comes. He did win this time. This right here, Bucky’s arms around him, sharing the burdens he feels is his win. He doesn’t deserve it but he’s too selfish to let it go. Needs Bucky too much to ever give him up.

“I don’t suppose you’d have any interest in going to the future?” he mumbles.

“I’ve been owed a vacation since 1943 so yeah, let’s go.”

“Silk is a lot cheaper. Lace too.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, that smug tinge back in his voice. He gives Steve’s hip a squeeze. “You’ll be so fucking pretty.”

“Shut up. That’s all you get. I’m not saying anything else,” he says, even as he’s burrowing into Bucky and breathing in the warmth of his skin.

“Good. Leave the opportunity for a rematch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story originally had the start of a new story with 2023!Bucky/2012!Loki and it really needed to be a separate thing so I've taken it out. Everyone just hated Steve because of what he did to our Bucky (Which was fair enough) but I think it became distracting and took away from the enjoyment of this story. If you were reading it or are interested in Loki/Bucky (I swear it makes sense!) then it will be one of my other works. Thanks for reading and I think this story ends here. Hopefully, it doesn't feel unfinished. If it does, let me know and I'll see what I can do. Thank you! Sorry for the shenanigans.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Steve of His Own](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567783) by [whendoestheshipsail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/whendoestheshipsail)




End file.
